


Renegade

by Punk_in_Docs



Category: AU Star Wars - Fandom, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU Star Wars, Also Biker Kylo. Cause why the fuck not?, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, An Arrangement, Angst, Angst and Porn, Betrayal, Businessmen, Cheating, Cunnilingus, Deal with a Devil, Dominant Kylo Ren, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Cheating, LoanShark!Kylo, NSFW, Oral Sex, Partner Betrayal, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, References to Drugs, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Smut, aggressive sex, night club, nightclubs, tattooed too. Fml
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-10-14 09:00:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 87,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17505584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk_in_Docs/pseuds/Punk_in_Docs
Summary: “Please, Please… I.. I love my husband. I don’t want to see him bankrupt and ashamed, or fired from his job…” She swallows, collecting her grief.He turns to her as she inhales on her next word. At the look on his face, her breath caught in her throat.“I don’t want my payment, in monetary form.” He breathes, his breath shifting into a husky tone. He stalks again. Circling her. No. Her brain gasps weakly to herself. Oh, god. No.“Here is my deal, Doll. I’ll let that hubby of yours have every cent of my loan without repayment… If…” He smirks. Her thighs clench together and she wets her lips as she feels those handsome lips leer right by her ear. Whispering to her his filthy craving."You fuck me." He leers.





	1. Deal With The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> "When you dance with the Devil,  
> The Devil doesn't change. The  
> Devil changes you."  
> \- Amanda Hocking
> 
> Second chapter is pure porn; be warned

 

 

It was such an unassuming thing. A business card.

_Such a simple thing…_

The flat rectangle of thick, polished paper sat clamped between her manicured fingers. Today, was really a day for her war paint, she’d decided. As was evident her blood red, fairly short nails, to match her lips, dress and heels.

The paper may have weighed next to _nothing,_ but the significance of it, to her, means it may aswell have been heavier than _a two tonne_ weight.

She’d sucked her bottom lip between her teeth in trepidation so often, she was sure she’d worn away the violent matte red she’d painstakingly placed there earlier. Her entire torso is squirming and fidgeting like maggots wriggling on rotting meat. This was definitely the place. Her biggest clue was the crowding clientele who were queued, gaggled about on the pavement on this bitter New York night. Bubbling with frenzied excitement and young energy. The crowds were contained within the guideposts of the velvet ropes that led up to the huge steel, double door entrance. Flagged by two muscle mountains passing for bouncers.

Emblazoned above the door was the name of the dreaded place, _‘Star-killer’_ in a garish hue of scarlet, its neon light leaking into the night air around it. The bass inside the place was thumping along in time with the beating of her shrinking, stumbling and terrified heart. She could feel the rhythm of it shake her toes in her shoes as she stood on the tarmac. She can see the red laser light show strobing inside the pace from the high up windows in this modern warehouse.

She’d been fidgeting out here in her too thin coat, and too tight dress for too long. So long in fact,  bitter November cold had seeped down into her panicking bones. She bit back her tears, and let out a long breath that caught in her throat and came out as a shiver that wracked her entire body. She looked down at her hand once more. Down onto the _one name_ and one set of digits that were scrawled upon this damned card she carried.

_20 seconds of bravery. That’s all she needed._

_20 seconds to change your life, Missus, fate unknowingly cackled._

She took it, when she raised one foot and took a step, starting forwards towards the door. And then she took another, and another. And before her mortified body can send signals to her trembling courage, she is at the doors and nervously facing the two guards that flanked the entrance. She wets her red lips, and gulps, and her voice pours forth in a cowering rasp. Trying to speak over the disgruntled bright young things that all yell at her to get in line.

“I’m here to see Ren.” She manages to splutter. Her voice a timid _peep_ of its usual self.

Unimpressed eyes scan her up and down. One _tilts_ an eyebrow, and one _smirks_.

 _He’ll eat her alive, they’re both very certain_ _of that._

There is a minute of terrible silence as the two guards very plainly assessed her figure. And what _a treat_ there was to witness. She knew she had a figure that looked like it belonged to a buxom Hollywood starlet in a black and white film. _(Happy birthday Mr. President, her beloved would coo lovingly, sexily, into her ear as he slid those big hands of his over her the back of her hip)_

It had taken her years to come to positive terms with her body image. She wasn’t a thin woman. She carried her weight well. She supposed, she could be aptly described as _chunky_. She had an ass, tits, hips and thighs that were defined in her simple retro dress that stretched tight over all she had to offer up to the gaze. And yes, that did come with a great helping of cellulite, stretchmarks, love handles and upper arms that were too untoned for her liking.

She wasn’t a slip of a girl in a skimpy dress; she was a _woman_ in a _bombshell_ of a garment. Red was her power colour. And her agonizing heels made her feel supported, and _strong_. Her auburn hair was pinned out her face for comfort. She hated to think that her power outfit was failing her tonight. _But,_ she gulps, _there was good reason for It too tonight…_

She shakily shows them the card that has been clutched in her anxious fingers all evening. With little more than a gruff nod, she is encouraged past, to a chorus of protest and hollering from the orderly queue of strangers. She doesn’t meet any of their disgruntled eyeline, for right now, she can barely summon the energy to _stand_. Her heart begins to stab with panic as she walks inside. A part of her secretly yearned that she’d be told he wasn’t here, or she wasn’t allowed in, and she could retreat before she had to try and attempt entry. Now, she’d crossed that hurdle, and it was out of her hands. She was _here_. She was _inside_. She was past the threshold, in the room _. Out of the frying pan and into the fire as it were…_

And she felt as if she was entering Dante’s inferno now. She never had been one for the nightclub scene. She was a night-in-with-a-bottle kind of girl, that was her fun. Her fun, now, didn’t include the scene before her. A modern, blacked out space kitted with lasers and lights darting everywhere to illuminate the many gyrating bodies, as people danced and drank and lost themselves in the deafening bass of the electric music pounding through the club.

Wall to wall sound filled the expensive modern space. Black pillars and reflective pillars dotted throughout the tall room. It was tiered, up and up, into the ceiling two balconies staggered above the dancefloor. Booths, she can see, on the top tier, the middle, tables, and the ground floor was where the crowd gathered to the dance. She didn’t like to think about what _activities_ could take place in the privacy of the sheer curtained booths high above, in the dark. She put it from her mind. She had to focus on her task at hand.

The bar was rammed with patrons and she let her eyes wander over the place for a second, taking in all it had to offer. Way across the neon black and white chequered dancefloor, there was a DJ booth pumping out the intoxicatingly loud beat. The place was swept and strobed with red lights flashing and twirling around the very big space, filled to the very brim with sound, light, noise and people drinking away their night and rationality. The heat of the place was overpowering, she shrugged out of her coat and folded it in her grip.

 _Its an escape_ , she supposes to herself. Drink too much, dance to too loud music and just forget yourself for a while. Get lost in the muggy haze of the room that intoxicated everyone who stepped through its doors. _She had been young and semi-wild once, too_. She can remember the delicious delirium of getting sweaty and lost in the crowd. Sticky from dancing with her girlfriends, slightly dizzy from too many cocktails. Feeling some conniving strangers arms trying to wrap themselves around her waist, the male hips trying to gyrate with her. She can vividly recall slapping those wandering hands away and shooting a mild glare over her shoulder before any more attempts to cop a feel were _dangerously_ endeavoured.

Fighting her way through the cramped space, zigzagging and bobbing, trying not to step on any toes, she eventually pushes her way to the bar. Oblivious to the eyes that raked her figure as she weaved by. She managed to fight to the front of the bar, grabbing her opportunity when two people slid away with shots to press herself against the counter and try and capture the attention of the bartender. Before long a definite hipster of a man saunters over, suavely throwing a cloth over one shoulder. His biceps were stuffed into his white t-shirt, inked with tattooed sleeves encircling both bare, bulging arms and his pecs looked ready to burst free. He leans one hip into his side of the counter, both arms braced on the sparkling black granite surface. He had a dark well-groomed beard, and that slicked back, half shaved hairstyle that every man seemed to possess nowadays. His eyes lingered for barely a second on her cleavage, and then his wry smile twitched beneath that beard.

“And, what can I _get_ _you?”_ He drawled in a tone that suggested he would like to do a whole lot more than pour her a mere drink.

She toys with the idea of a double bourbon, but lets that slide and pushes through to her reason for coming.

“Where can I find Ren?” She asks, in her no nonsense tone that was clipped in its effectiveness by her bellowing over the music. His still leering face gives nothing away. As impassive as an Easter Island statue.  

 _“Why?_ Whose asking?” He interrogates. Clearly this was a threadbare question for him.

“A _concerned_ customer.” She insists.

She doesn’t narrow her eyes. She doesn’t let venom creep into her tone. She blinks and states her aim in a level headed way. Not giving him a _single_ edge to play with. He looked as slippery _as soap_. She wasn’t some giggling brat trying to flirt for information here. She was a _lady_ on _a mission_. _Alright_ , so she looked like a 60’s secretary in a dress fresh off the set of mad men, compared to the _tweens_ packed to the rafters in here in their complex bodycon numbers (that bordered _on lingerie_ , she wished to point out)

It would be a mistake to think she’d crumble at the slightest friction or opposition to her questions. And she sure _as hell_ wasn’t resorting to flirting her way out of any situation. She was fifteen years too old to pull that cheap little trick off.

He swerved his jaw, getting the full measure of her. Gritting his teeth. He turns away, putting his back to her, grabs a trendy ribbed tumbler glass, and pours a generous glug of some amber spirit into it. He slides it back across the bar to her. She lightly raises one brow.

“On the house.” He stipulates.

 _“Believe me_. You’ll _need this_ down your neck before you talk to Kylo Ren.” He promises. That sentence alone, spoken coolly with confidence, causes grey unease to needle through her and squirm at her stomach. She doesn’t question him. She chucks the drink back, not even flinching at the sting that tears at her throat. She slides the empty glass back, seeing her lipstick staining the rim. She holds her eye contact.

He tilts his head up over her shoulder, across the crowds of writhing bodies on the dancefloor. She twists and turns to see his indication, which went to a singular guarded door, up above on the second balcony. Even from down here, she could see this door too was flanked by a stony faced, shaved gorilla in a suit.

She turns back to the flirty hipster, who does nothing but gather her glass back, eye her cleavage one last time, meet her eyes, and the bastard had the audacity _to wink_ before he swaggered off to serve someone else.

“ _You enjoy_ your night now, darlin.” He seduces before he disappears off down the bar.

He doesn’t give her a chance to thank him for the drink. And she won’t linger. She pushes her way through to the stairs, lined with people drinking and chatting. She cautiously picks her way up the reflective steps, turning a tight circle back on herself, to go along the balcony that brought her to the door. Adorned with neon red VIP, she walks in what she hopes is a confident manner, up to the guard, and once more states her purpose. Once he sees the business card in her hand, he holds the door open for her to walk in.

  _Into her devastation._

She made her way along the starkly red lit corridor. Throwing every shade into red and black. She can see activity in the room beyond the long walk. When she appears in the doorway, the room barely notices her entrance. This was obviously the VIP lounge, judging by the luxuriousness of its setting, a plush carpet cushions the numerous black antique leather sofas, and one wall is entirely framed in old-fashioned mirrors, crusted with old age, they reflect the entire scene back onto itself, and the red strobe lights that flicker in from the floor to ceiling windows adjacent, directly to her left. Furthermore, she can tell this area is exclusively for selected personnel, as well suited men lounge on the sofas, with scantily clad girls draped over them, enjoying chilled champagne from the low coffee tables, framed by strips of white neon light. The air is foggy with cigarette smoke. Plus, she catches sight of mirror backed trays and white substance cut into lines, the manner of which  she doesn’t suspect is entirely _innocent._

She can hardly comprehend the world she is about to plunge _headlong_ into _. It was a far cry from her own comfortable, safe, means._

She catches sight of her reflection in the wall full of mirrors and flights the impulse to adjust her hair. Wisps of it lay delicately against the back of her neck and  down by her ears now. And she can see her cheeks are lightly flushed from the heat of this place. And staggering through those thronging crowds downstairs was a chore in itself. The tempo of the music downstairs had changed, it was slower, but the bass seemed to thump and _pulse deeper_ up here. _Or maybe_ , she speculates, _that was just the wild throbbing of her heartbeat gonging in her ears._

A man from the far corner, inhaling suavely on a cigarette notices her floundering, and breaks away from his conversation to rescue the poor doe who’d just willingly wandered into the lions den. He crosses to her, still dragging deep on a cigarette, letting the smoke roll easily out of his nose and lips. As he walks across to her, the red lights pass over him, striking his somewhat handsome features. He shoves one hand deep in his well fitted suit pocket as he reaches her. He takes his time exhaling, shamelessly letting the smoke curl from his lips as he savours the sight of her. She blinks it out of her eyes before they begin to water. She’d fought off that particular proclivity enough times tonight to let it fell her down now.

“You _lost, baby?”_ He asks with a calm expression.

She holds his stare. This wasn’t the first _wolf_ she’d encountered tonight, And she had a feeling he wouldn’t be the last, either.

“Not Lost.” She assures him quickly. The inviting smell of cigarette smoke tugging at her, quickly seeks to remind her why the hell she gave up smoking. A painful shudder rolls through her when she remembers why she kicked the habit. _Her lover had hated the smell of them, that was why she gave up._

“You’re here to see the big bad _boss_ , no doubt?” He queries. He was smarmy, but quick, she’d give him that. He’d obviously caught sight of the infernal card fisted in her hand.

She nods, wetting her lips, her gut curling up in uncomfortableness when she flickers her gaze to the right for a second. She snaps her attention back to him when she catches sight of a man sliding his hand _all the way up_ the skirt of one of the scantily clad women.

The smoker gave her a leering grin through his next exhale, eyes shining with malice and amusement. He smoothly walked backwards, jerking his head back to gesture for her to follow. She followed his lead, letting him take her across more VIP areas, looking down over the club, through wide windows. Judging by the _noise_ s emanating from some of the couples she passes sprawled on the settees, she keeps her gaze _thoroughly_ narrowed to her path.

He leads her to an office door, his back to her as he raps his knuckles on it. Signalling to this faceless _‘Kylo Ren’_ that she had come to procure a deal. _A deal involving someone she loved so very greatly_.

Smoker gives it a few long seconds before he swings the door open. She doesn’t want to peek, but her curiosity gets the better of her. She shyly casts her eyes over Smokey’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of the well kitted out office before her. An entirely black space, lit only by the red neon lights of the club it overlooked. A large window is the entire wall, a stark black desk sits prominent in the room, opposite which, there is splayed a large black, clean lined sofa. Nothing like the antique touch of the room she just passed through, this was cut-throat. Modern, Edgy. Stark. _Expensive, she guesses_.

Many of those attributes applied to its occupant too. Stood with his back to her, staring out of the window before him, like a king surveying his kingdom.

Truthfully she didn’t know what to expect. She had in mind an aged, balding, plump businessman she’d come to bargain with. She wasn’t expecting, _him._

 _Him_ , being a generously tall, broad, muscled, _man mountain_.

She’d never fully conceived of a man she could call _‘Strapping’_ before, but he single handedly stole the biscuit for that term, _alone._ His appearance struck her with all the tact and subtlety of a _bolt of lightning_ …

This _god like_ man in mortal form, stood a good foot taller than she. Her head must only come up to brush against his collarbone. She scanned him from head to toe. Chunky boots encased his feet, and simple black trousers masqueraded those strong, long, legs. His hair was a wild disarray of jet black hair, that was just _as untamed_ as the head it was attached too. His neck tapered into the broadest back and shoulders she had ever seen on a man. _Hulking_ seemed too cheap a word to cheat him of the sheer physical _impact_ of his size. His biceps were thick as tree trunks, much the same could be said for his thighs, and his trousers clung devilishly close to his well formed arse.

She stepped closer into the room, watching the lights strobe over him again, shifting, malforming his pale skin. When he tilted his head to see whom had intruded his solitude, that same lightning bolt from earlier struck her again. It, _almost,_ made her step falter. But she tried to keep her composure.

His face was _as striking_ as the rest of him. _Because here was a difficult man to ignore_.

A broad, roman nose, full lips, eyes darker and more soulful than glittering black antimatter. His lips and chin decorated with dark facial hair. But what really struck a chord with her, was his aura of danger. Which only seemed to solidify her _fear_. Tattoo’s were scrawled over every spare inch of forearm she could see due to the rolled sleeves of his white dress shirt that clung onto his muscles for dear life. She could see the same marring of ink splashed in designs up the side of his neck, and as he turned, the low buttoned V-neck shifted on his chest, showing her more resided, hidden under the shirts surface. In one massive hand, he held a glass of something _strong and potent_ she was sure, and she saw then the couple of silver rings slotted onto his lengthy fingers.

When he caught sight of her, retreating from behind Smokey’s frame, his face took on an expression she didn’t care to decipher. Putting her finger on it, she’d guess it was a toss up between _hunger,_ _amusement_ and _lust._

_Lust so intoxicating in power she skipped a breath. Her heart slammed up against her ribs in a collision comparable to a mangling car crash._

“Visitor for you, Boss.” Smokey delights, _grinning_ at her wildly once again, hanging off the door handle for a second, before swinging back around the door and pulling it shut after him.

_She felt like she’d been dropped into a shark tank, stark bollock naked. With nothing to defend herself with but a playing card._

“And precisely who might _you be, Doll?”_  Came a drawl that was deeper than sin when he spoke. His tone decidedly all gravel and smoke in timbre. He slowly steps closer, _sizing her up_. Leaning that pert ass on the corner of his desk and letting his eyes linger for a good second on her hips. Then her cleavage. Before he dives into her eyeline with his deep gaze.

She gulps.

“You _don’t_ know me…” She began. Wetting her lips.

He raised one dark brow in amusement. _Obviously. He smiled._ His smug face was as readable as her fear.

“You do, however, know my _husband.”_ She gets out.

That grin grows _so wide_ she’s almost tempted to tremble. She resists the urge. She finds her backbone, and steels it. _Willing it on to be strong_.

“Whose that _lucky_ bastard?” He flirts.

“Armitage Hux.” She lets out.

“Well. What a great squeeze he bagged.” He compliments. She blinks slowly, trying to know how to digest that comment.

 _There’s that grin of his again_. The one she’s only seen once, and now she _loathes it._

“I found your business card in his jacket. Putting two and two together wasn’t _exactly_ difficult _…”_ She explains flatly.

“ _Oh_?” He seeks. Impressed by her boldness. She shot straight from her _, incredibly gorgeous, hips._ So he could see.

“I want to know what he borrowed from you.” She asks.

“I’m a night club magnate Doll. One of the richest, most powerful men in this whole damn city. What do _you imagine_ he borrowed from me?” He challenged her. He stood and stepped closer, thunking his glass down on his desk. Both hands in his pockets as he sauntered forwards. Towering over her.

She doesn’t need to answer that. She can’t afford to anger or bore this man. _This was too important_.

“You want the sum of his debt to me?” He asks her, narrowing his eyes.

“Are you his wife or his _fucking_ accountant?” He asks in flat boredom.

“I ask for the sum because I want to know the _worth_ of what…” Her throat closes up. Her mouth dry and sticky.

“ _Of?_ ” He seeks, encouraging her on. He stalks around her, prowling. Passing behind her, and around her side, in her eyesight once more. When she doesn’t answer, she can _feel_ him _grin_ again.

“Don’t be _shy_.” He teases, speaking close enough to her body that she felt his hot breath fan over her bare shoulder. She grinds her teeth at his patronising tone. Though she can’t put aside the way his nearness makes her flush harder. Her stomach flipping over.

“I want to know the worth of his debt, and if, you’d… consider _forgiving it_?” She finally bargains.

“I’m not _a bank_ , Baby doll.” He answers quickly. “If I loan money, I expect payment _in. Full.”_ He emphasises the last word.

“I came to offer a bargain…” She counteracts.

“And what _would that_ be?” He encourages.

He stands close enough now to scent her. _A slight hint of roses_ , he smirks. If he wasn’t mistaken that soft, elegant scent was woven into her hair and a delicate trace of her perfume rolled off her shoulders. He shutters his eyes as he scans over her delicious curves. _That gorgeous figure was wasted on a prissy prick like Armitage Hux._ He never knew the stuck up man had such _a delectable wife. Or else he’d have tried to make a deal with the man long ago…_ At circling her, he found his eyes couldn’t be so easily torn from her ass. Such a thing of beauty in that tight dress. He felt his cock stir in his pants merely at the sight of it stood before him.

“I can repay you _in full_ , the amount he borrowed. I just need a little time to secure a loan…” She tries to reason.

“ _Not_. Interested.” He makes plain as he crossed around her once more, going back over to his desk. _She wants to clamp down her lip to stop it wobbling in both equal parts fury and sadness._

She doesn’t know the exact sum of money Hux borrowed. But she can make a _rough_ estimate. He was a stock broker who took a lot of risk in his job. Sometimes that risk failed. And she was here, trying to keep their savings afloat. Trying to save him from another imprudent investment, And her chance with this _intemperate_ man was almost over before it had even started. She couldn’t afford to leave here empty handed.

“Please…” She squeaks in an idle, pathetic, and weak little beg. She can feel grief prickling the back of her eyes.

“ _Please, Please_ … I.. I love my husband. I don’t want to see him bankrupt and ashamed, or fired from his job…” She swallows, collecting her grief.

He turns to her as she inhales on her next word. At _the look_ on his face, her breath caught in her throat.

“I could, _be persuaded_ to cut you a deal here, doll. I can, after all, see _how badly_ you want to resolve this… and it is noble of you coming in here to _try_ and broker a deal for a disreputable man.” He smirks. His eyes gleaming sinfully. His smile wicked, and then some…

She clamps her teeth shut when a retort for Hux’s defence springs into her mouth. Insulting him when on the brink of meeting an accord wouldn’t be _the wisest_ course of action.

“I don’t want my payment, in _monetary_ form.” He breathes, his breath shifting into a husky tone. He stalks again. Circling her.

She frowns. _The thoughts in her head too vile and mind boggling to even comprehend_ … _He wants, what?!_

She almost flinches when, from behind her, his hands tug her coat and his business card from her hands and toss them to the sofa behind them. Her cheeks were on fire and she shuts her eyes in ashamed realisation. Her breath shudders.

 _No_. Her brain gasps weakly to herself. _Oh, god. No._

“Here is my deal, Doll. I’ll let that hubby of yours have every cent of my loan without repayment… If…”

He smirks. Her thighs clench together and she wets her lips as she feels those handsome lips leer right by her ear. Whispering to her his filthy craving.

He drawls. Stretching out her torture. His hot breath hitting her neck _almost_ served to make her moan.

“You _fuck_ me.“ He leers.

 

 

~

 


	2. We have an Accord?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porn. PWP. SMUT. POOOORRRRNN! All. The Porn. P O R N - Please Enjoy

 

~

 

She was damn sure she didn’t intake a breath for a good long minute. The words kept twisting and echoing in her ears. His gruff voice, and the words ‘ _Fuck me’_  ricocheting _over and over_ in her head just like the [_music_](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=8LxR5I7cWkI) below. Her chest flushes, her cheeks heat up by atleast ten degrees, she can feel her nipples pebble _hard_ in arousal under her dress, in a way she _cannot_ rationally comprehend.

She blinks and let words stumble from her lips. “You- _um_.“ She struggles. Her heart leaps up in her chest when he crosses back around her side, she can _feel him_ coming close. She can _sense_ the heat radiating from this _muscular, tall presence_ stalking her.

And his proximity brought to her something else she _didn’t need_. She could smell an inviting tug of cologne gently plume in her direction. She shuddered because it was just, so, _all male_.

 _It was citrus, cinnamon, warm notes of geranium and the softer musk of vetiver and sandalwood._ It falls to reason that this powerful, rich man had a powerful charisma about every aspect of his personality. She feels one big hand come up behind her ear and toy _so_ gently with a loose wisp of hair. His fingertips brushing her neck made her skin tighten and _burst_ with pleasure and _too much_ erotic awareness. She had to let her eyes slide shut at the pleasure of it, exhaling a shaky breath.

“You look _fucking_ gorgeous when you blush, Doll.” He rasps, she swallows and turns her eyes to rake over him again. He is bearing down on her with a look that was so intense, she almost believes him merely by the solemnity lingering in his dark eyes.

“Why would you want to…” Her throat chokes on his aforementioned word. “I’ve got to be _well past_ the _median age_ for your… _conquests.._ ” She grinds out with difficulty, trying to clutch at straws. Trying to understand _his reasons_ for wanting _her_.

His eyes narrow playfully at her, and his touch skims away and off her. He walks back across to his desk. She’d be earths biggest liar if she said she didn’t watch the way that crisp white shirt fluttered tight across his broad back and shoulders as he moved. He turns back to her, seated once more against the edge of his desk.

“You’ve deduced that _bold_ assumption based on _what, exactly?”_  He countered. She levels an unamused look across at him. He could do many things, but assuming her to _be thick_ and clueless was _not_ grouped among them.

“The numerous tween models who seem to have congregated a hairs breadth away outside your office door wearing dresses so short that it _leaves little_ to the imagination…” She rants. Amazed to find she scoffs in humour as she speaks.

He doesn’t know _why, or even how_ , but the sight of those red lips pulling into a smile, makes his entire midsection _tense_ with warmth. Gods, aswell as being the _curviest, sexiest_ woman he’s sure _he’s ever seen_ , she also had a _smile to die for._

“From the contents of my VIP lounge, which by the way, constitute _none_ of my sexual preferences, you conclude you’re _too old_ for me?” He asks in surprise, his voice tinted in amusement.

She swallows, feeling a smidge foolish. _She had just blindly assumed a man like him, who had girls like them within an arm’s reach, meant they were easy prey. Maybe she’d been far too hasty to assume…_

“I’m thirty-fucking-six, and you cannot be _a day_ over thirty…” She stammers out, pointing her hand out to him in an unbelieving gesture.. The words ‘ _cradle-snatcher’_ and _‘cougar’_ came to mind. He cuts her off stone dead.

“For your information, _Doll,_ I’m thirty _fucking two_.” He assures her with a wry smile.

She swallows down her nervousness. For the first time this evening, she felt herself starting to relax, if only _slightly_.

“You look…. _younger_ …” She states calmly. Her eyes clamped shut in embarrassment.

He holds her eyeline for a moment, smiling, when she re-opens her eyes. His resulting smirk makes her lungs deflate.

“What does _age matter?_ I think you are the _hottest damn_ woman I’ve ever seen… And I don’t cut just _anyone_ a deal.” He growls lowly, his eyes scanning the glorious stretch of her body.

“Only those you want to fuck…” She cannot help but bite out, a _little too_ harshly. He loved the way her prim, crisp English accent rolled around the word _‘fuck.’_

He _laughs._

“ _Oh babydoll_ , fucking is the _least_ of what I want _to do_ to you.” He is quick to assure her. He stands and gets close to her once again. She can see that the top of her head _barely_ grazes his shoulders.

“And if I refuse…” She ventures bravely.

“Then that redheaded hubby yours had better have my money by the _thirty day_ limit we agreed to on the binding contract _he signed_ for me when he borrowed $40.000.” He promises lethally. That glimmer of danger simmered like a furnace at the back of his eyes once more.

“Don’t _mistake_ me.” He tells to the apprehension he could sense in her. “You’re not locked in this room with me. Doll. You can leave at _any_ time. I won’t lay _a single finger_ on you without _your consent_.” He tells her.

She baulks slightly in incertitude.

“You just need to decide what deal you’re willing _to agree too_. Let your husband try and scramble for the capital to repay me. Or, I can give you the _best damn_ fucking ride of _your life_ and then you can scurry on home to that partner of yours, and I will _gladly_ waive his debt.” He assures.

She inhales deeply.

“If I _do_ agree…” She whimpers softly. Her tone a question seeking answers.

She made deals and accords day in and day out at the gallery. Except the items on sale here, were a _lot more_ personal than a degas sketch.

His mouth tilts up to one side, and there’s that devils smirk again. _And she is reminded of just, who, she’s dealing with_ …

 “Then I’ll send you home, _trembling_ , clutching the proof of your victory In those _pretty_ hands.” He promises. _She was considering his offer_ , he thinks gleefully with a grin.

_She couldn’t believe the equanimities of her brain right at this very moment…_

“Hux _can’t know.”_ She stipulates seriously.

 _He’s got her_.

 _And now she was eating from his palm,_ he leers internally to himself.  

 _“_ That’s my _one and only_ stipulation. _Do, whatever_ you have _to do_ to me to make this deal. But I _can’t_ have my husband _know about this_ …” She cries desperately.

He nods gently.

“You have _my word.”_  He promises. He atleast had enough tact to recognise that this was a _great hurdle_ for her to leverage herself over.

“Then, we have _a deal?”_ She repeats. She asks, meeting his _striking_ gaze.

“You bet your _sweet ass_ we do, Mrs Hux.” He beams darkly.

He straightens his back, and reaches forward one massive hand out to her. She looks at him tentatively for a second, before she steps forwards and slides her small hand into his grip, Even the size of his hands _dwarfed_ her. He was such a, _big man_. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of him was as _brute, and as large. Judging by the quick glance she stole grazing over the strained material of his crotch, the term ‘big’ applied generously to all of him._

“ _Sidney_.” She corrects. Nervously rubbing her thigh. Because it’s just occurred to her, she didn’t actually _introduce herself_ to him. _And because she can’t stomach the thought of him purring Mrs. Hux at her, utilising her married name, whilst they…._

“Sidney.” He repeats in that deep baritone. _Sid_. He doesn’t know _why, or how_ , but it _suited her_. His hand on hers is a firm grip, but its gentle too.

“Sidney, _baby_. Do I have _your consent_ to close this deal?” He asks her.

_She couldn’t believe it had come to this…_

She lets a long exhale rattle her chest. She looks at Ren. Wets her lips, she felt his fingers tighten _imperceptibly_ across hers for just a second. He was a loan shark. Disreputable. Dishonest. A man not to be crossed. One of the most dangerous and influential men in this city. She wasn’t even fully certain he wouldn’t fuck her then toss her aside without even honouring his deal to Hux.

_But sweet Jesus Christ, the way her purred ‘baby’ at her, made her weak…_

“ _Yes_ , Ren.” She relents.

She may aswell have waved a red flag to a bull. _A very horny, tall, tattooed bull who’d made plain his evident desire to fuck her through til daybreak and until they both ran out of energy…_

He can’t be sure if it was his god given name spilling _sweetly_ from her gorgeous lips. Or if it was hearing her agree to his filthy deal. But he can’t help but _tug_ her close, she tries not to stumble in her abominably tall heels. She is pulled into his body, as his legs were spread where he leant against his desk. All of him is suddenly up for grabs _against her_.

His thick, _so very_ muscled thighs pressed either side of her hips, her torso crushed into his, sparking heat to rush through her body. Hardening her nipples to _painful_ points. His hands deviously slip around her hips, smoothing down over the backs of her hips, down her ass. But he doesn’t grip or grasp _roughly_ at her. He savours the moment of having this beauty in his arms _. Even if she wasn’t  entirely his._

She is so close to him now their breath mingles _. His breath is sweetly scented of cigarettes and whisky, and he somehow has this earthy undertone of leather and motor oil. Because don’t tell her that this man doesn’t wear a leather jacket, and straddle an expensive, antique, dangerous motorbike in order to get about._

Her hands flounder for a second, and his seemed so sure about touching her. Her arms linger, stuck, mid-air, over his shoulders for a second. His eyes flicker down to her lips, and slowly rake up over her face to meet her eyes. He may have been slouched down, but still, he managed to be _taller_.

S _he shouldn’t have been as turned on like this with a man that wasn’t her Hux_. But shamefully, she tells that niggling worry to _take a hike. For tonight, atleast._

 _It’s for Hux._ She tells herself as she feels Ren’s plush lips assault her neck with alarming alacrity. Suddenly, she seems to be having trouble standing upright, she can feel the cocky bastards smirk on her neck. _This is for Hux… she whimpers to herself._

_Then she feels his teeth…_

_Fuck._

_God, Hux hadn’t touched her like this in months. In many, many months, in fact, and now she realises how much she’s missed the carnality of sex. The heat, the urgency. Longing. Passion. Lust. Lust so strong it was making her head spin._

_“Ren…”_ She finds herself gasping.

When his teeth scrape a hickey onto her collarbone, her _last shred_ of rationality goes sailing _right out_ the window. She chokes on a moan. _Dear god, that was her weakest spot._ Her hands _know_ what to do now. One hand slides into his inky coloured, wild, hair and _tugs_. Whilst the other hooks into his meaty, muscled shoulder. She can hear him _hiss_ against her neck as he sucked a kiss onto her.

“ _Kylo…_ ” He corrects in a gruff as his lips slide up under her jawline. Shifting his hips to grind forwards into her abdomen. Resulting in a whine that caused her thighs to _clench_ tightly together in need. Her fingers viced into his shirt. Exposing his tattooed shoulder.

“Be honest with me baby. You’ve wanted to kiss me like this from _the second_ you saw me. I saw it in your eyes _. I aroused you.”_ He whispers dirtily. “You wanted to get those _pretty little hands_ all _over me_ … all over my body, Grab my _thick cock_ , grab my ass, grab my shoulders as I _fuck you raw_.” He continues.

Her nails dig _, deep_ , into his skin when he slid to her lips and kissed her, with _extreme fervour_.

The rumbling growl that emanates from his chest makes her wet. _No single doubt about it._

One hand leaves her ass, whilst the other gently squeezes her through her dress. Turning her on to _no avail._ She doesn’t know where his other hand wanders too. And then she feels it skim the back of her neck. Her mouth gapes when she feels him tug down on the zipper between her shoulder blades, opening the back of the dress as his big hand slid down. Taking the zip with it. When his fingers splay flat to the bare skin of her back, and feel the shape of her spine, _dear god, she was going to melt into a puddle any second_. His lips were just as _sinful_ as the rest of him. And when his _clever tongue_ seeks out her own, she is positively _giddy_. Their mouths crashing together in between groans of frustration and need.

He only increased the erotic nature of the moment when he abandons getting her out of her dress, to shift her broad thigh to loop over his left thigh, and then he grinds his hips up into her. She gasps, pulling away to cup the back of his neck in surprise and to bite her lip in anticipation.

 _Dear god. This man has a massive cock_.

_Enormous._

Possibly even bordering on _unbelievably huge._

 _“Like_ what you feel?” He grins darkly against her neck. By now, he’s given her _so many_ dark hickeys she’s sure it looks like someone had attempted a strangling. He presses all of himself into her again. Her pussy flutters, clenching, wanting _him_ between her thighs. She wants _to growl_ at its traitorous nature _. Wanting so badly for this man to pound her to pieces on his desk, when she had her husband waiting patiently at home for her._

“That’s all for you, _baby_ , _every single_ goddamn inch. And you can be _so very sure_ that by the time I let you go out of here, I will have filled your _pretty pussy so full_ of me, you’ll struggle to keep our fuck a secret from that _ginger prick_ of yours…” He promises filthily. “ _He’ll never_ be able to _fuck you_ the way I can.” He pledges.

He doesn’t let her catch her breath before his lips are on her again, with a growl. And she is left to ponder the less savoury _implications_ of their coupling. He was implying he’d send her home to Hux with _his cum_ dried between her thighs. _And why the hell does that turn her on so much?_

Because now she could feel the very _solid, thick, heavy_ length of him pressing into her. She breaks away from his smothering kiss. Firstly to catch her breath, and secondly because she feels one of his hands unbutton his shirt. She doesn’t waste his efforts. Her hands seek obligingly under his white shirt, feeling the _hard_ slabs of muscle that made up his chest and stomach. Both palms pressed flat to his abs. he didn’t know it was possible to feel so _stimulated_ just by having her hands on his skin. Apparently it was, because his cock he was sure was now about two shades away from being purple. _Had been ever since he watched her walk into his club…_

His eyes had been on her since the second she’d stepped through Star Killers doors. Through the crowds, he couldn’t keep his eyes _off her_. He watched her body move under that _intoxicating, tight dress._ He watched her go to the bar, and then cross to the second floor to come find him. He had to quickly pour himself a drink in attempts to try and crush down his behaviour that he knew bordered on ferocious sexual lust for her.

He refocused his aim on getting her naked. And now he was _all fired_ up, _god help her._

He clawed at the two sides of her dress, and heard it rip as he heaved the two pieces of fabric apart. With her nails now digging into his stomach, he negotiated the dress down off and over her arms. And rudely cast it to the floor as if it was something _offensive_ to him. It pooled around those _sexy as sin_ heels she was wearing.

“I _liked_ that dress.” She moans against his ear as he unclothes her.

“It was in my _fucking way, Doll_ …” He snarls against her, _smirking_. _Lord help her he was so smug she wanted to smack the smile off his face._

He took his _sweet_ time in admiring her now she was _semi naked_.

He tilts his head, looking, as his big palms slid to cover her hips. Feeling the bones of her pelvis press up under his hands. She was wearing a delectable red lace scrap of something that, _vaguely_ , resembled underwear, swallowed up into her voluptuous ass. Her bra was the same colour. Strapless. A deep scarlet, the cups edged with lace. He wanted to peel them down and suck and bite her, what he’s sure are _, perfect_ breasts. But his hands became _distracted,_ wandering to the lace on her hips. He couldn’t keep his mind off those _lethal_ hips.

She muffles a, _loud_ , moan down on his shoulder when his big fingers slip under the lace of her underwear, cupping her mons fully in his hand. His cock twitching when he found her _soaking_ for him. Sullying the expensive lace with her arousal. His thick fingertips part her slick lower lips, dragging through her labia, seeking upwards to instantly find her clit.

 _Expert touch, she thinks_.

He drags his fingers back up over her, feeling her smooth skin.

“ _Oh_ , Sid. Baby.” He riles. “Can’t tell you how much I _adore_ a shaved pussy.” He explains, worrying the skin of her neck with his teeth again as his hand explored her cunt.

She’d heard rumour Kylo Ren was known as a babe magnet, in a brooding, sexy, Mr Darcy sort of way. _Only if Mr Darcy was extremely well hung, a biker, covered in tattoo’s and randy as hell for the right woman who came along._ His touch told her he was _no slouch_ in the sack. But the _sheer hunger_ of his touch, left her believing it had been _some time_ since he’d last had a shag.

“ _Fuck._ I wanna _taste you_ , baby.”

He moves his fingers and delights in the fact that her cheeks are almost flushed _as red_ as her dress.

He follows her body as she bucks on the ends of his fingers, whining his name. She was leaving a wet patch on the front of his dress trousers she was _sure_ of it. She grinds her body back against him and his hand. He can feel her thighs _shiver_ at his onslaught.

He quickly withdraws his hand and she cannot help the small squeak that shatters her lips when his hands then vice to her hips. He hauls her up as if she _weighs nothing_ whatsoever. She feels those powerful muscles of his arms clench against her body. She is clasped against him as he pushes her onto the stark surface of his desk. The items that once were neatly organised there crash to the floor. Paperwork too, arcs into the air and clatters forgotten to the carpet below. Kylo _doesn’t care_ , she can discern. As he is _too busy_ hooking that (honestly) _ridiculous_ underwear down and off her legs, throwing them over his shoulder. He presses her right back on the desks surface, tilting her hips back to rest on her tailbone so he could _see all_ of her. _Uninhibited._ _Prey to his gaze_.

He anchors himself on the floor directly before her, sliding his shoulders under her thighs, drooping those gorgeous legs to rest over his shoulders. She is barely balancing herself on her elbows when she _feels_ him.

He wastes _no time_ in tasting her and fulfilling his wish. That first touch of his tongue, and her head is thrown back, far back, hanging between her shoulders. His name and _a gasp_ falling from her lips. He’s found her clit in no time and all, and he now exploits that by rubbing it, _hard_ , forcefully, with the tip of his tongue. All the while his hands claw into her fleshy thighs and he salivates just from licking her once.

 _One taste and he swore to god in heaven that his cock was damn close to exploding in his trousers. He never thought he’d be one to cum purely from eating pussy. However, this gorgeous woman was making him doubt that very much…_ His hips were bucking into _nothing_ of their own accord. _Anything_ for seeking that smidgeon _of relief._ Even the way his underwear now drags along his aching cock makes It seem like he’s fit _to burst_ any second.

“Fucking _hell_. Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted..” He moans in a smirk, his brows shooting up in earnest, cheeks flushed and hair in disarray.

_He looks so damn enraptured in eating her that its making her chest hurt._

_She can’t help but compare. Hux hadn’t done this to her in months._ There had been snow on the ground the last time he’d gone down on her. When they did fuck it was purely for the act itself. No foreplay, barely enough action to get them both going and afterwards, they’d both just sleep. _Oh, She had missed this_. she’d ached for it sometimes, and he’d either been away on business or dead to the world. When Hux did, of course, it was, incredibly _different_ , to her _current_ companion. Hux _took his time_ , he was practiced and methodical. He had an almost clinical approach to oral sex. He had always made her cum. But Kylo was a _beast of another nature…_

He was, for lack of a better expression, a _messy eater_. He used his teeth, lips, tongue and wasn’t afraid to make her _squeal_ his name. He slurped on her clit and grazed against her with his teeth. He was so _relentless_ in his goal for her pleasure it was making her head _spin_ and her body _quake._

Her train of thought breaks off as he nudges his lips into her, and he is moaning and growling into her in _no time_ at all. He was devouring her as if he was _desperate_ to _live._ She is _so wet_ by now she can feel the combination of his spit and her wetness sliding down her thighs, pooling under her ass and onto the pristine, polished noir surface of his desk. She actually does let out a scream when he brings one big hand up to slide two thick fingers into her. He parts her labia and sinks in _deep._ Almost to the _hilt._ He feels the silky essence of her coat his hand as he pumps in and out, curling his fingers to crook along her front wall. Delighted to see how much his efforts were affecting her when he felt the thick squelch of her sweet wetness ooze over his digits. He breaks his mouth away from her pussy with a satisfied groan, watching her suffer and _writhe_ in pleasure. He pulls away to watch her as she brings her head up to meet his gaze.

This is the point she _can’t deny_ just precisely what a _beautiful man_ Kylo Ren is.  

Cheeks flushed, and her arousal stuck slick to his chin and cheeks and those - she _hates_ to admit it but - _gorgeous_ lips. She could see her fluids shining like a beacon in the red and black half-light of his office. Curls of dark hair, wild and in disarray curled against the sheen of sweat on his dewy forehead. She wanted nothing more than to reach forward and tangle her hands in the _inviting_ black mane that was spilling, curling over her thighs as he ate.

His eyes shuttered as he concentrated on pleasuring her, with long dark eyelashes spilling onto his pale cheeks, which now she can see is pocked with moles. His free hand caressing up over her right hipbone as his other scissored and undulated those _massive fingers_ inside her tight pussy. Dragging along her g-spot, stimulating it with _every_ chance he got. Feeling tremors rock through her when he twisted and dragged his fingers a certain way. She felt him smile against her lips when he managed to work her into a perfectly _loud_ groan. He watches her beautiful tits cupped in her scarlet bra rise on her chest as she inhales through her ecstasy. Eyes shut, throat bared as he threw her head back for him.

“I wanna hear you _moan my_ name, Doll.” He speaks, his tongue dipping gently at her clit in a taut, firm circle. Savouring the taste of her on the tip of his tongue. A choked gasp falls from her lips as he plunges those wicked fingers deeper, striking a spot that made her toes _curl._

“Does that husband of yours _do this_ to you, _Baby?”_ He asks filthily. “Is he good like me? Does he make you _cum?_ Does he sink to his knees and _bury_ his face in your dripping pussy, _huh?”_ He presses. “Cause, if I were the man coming home to this gorgeous body, you’d _never_ have to cook for me again; cause I’d have my head between your thighs for my _every_ _meal_.” He lusts filthily. “This _beautiful_ pussy deserves _no less…”_ He explains as he suckles on her.

She feels tears spring to her eyes. Because she was so turned on, and in part because he had just hit on a _very tender_ secret she’d hoped to avoid telling him. Lest it inflate his already _colossal ego_.

_That secret being that Hux hadn’t gone down on her with this intensity in months, possibly even years._

She can’t help a solitary tear of confused hurt drop from the corner of her eye.

“He, _huhhh_ \- He _hasn’t_ …” She groans as she feels him remove his face from her and gaze up at her, his head framed between her thighs. He can _sense_ her hesitation, his lips stop his ministrations, but his fingers _don’t._ He’d said it to tease her, now at her resigned expression fighting through her pleasure, he can see that he’d hit a nerve. He tilts his head. His brows knit in confusion and disbelief.

_Armitage Hux is a fucking idiotic prick. He ponders as he grits his jaw._

He resolves his anger by taking it out on her taut clit. Ripe, _hard_ , and tender under his big fingers and tongue. Pulsing with blood, and throbbing with the _need_ to _cum_. He relents and _relentlessly_ puts his energy towards giving this woman the mind melting orgasm that she _deserved_. Needless to say, the way his wonderful lips have been going at her, it isn’t long before she cums.

Her body taut, toes curled, thighs seeking to almost clamp tight about his head. Her back arches of the desk and she absolutely _drenches_ his hand when she climaxes. _He doesn’t stop there_. He pushes her an pushes her until her clit throbs and burns under his tongue. He laps up every drop she gushes for him. Slurping, sucking, _tasting everything_ she gave him. She is shuddering and begging. And whilst she had reservations about touching his hair earlier. She had none now, because her fingers tangled in it and _tugged._ He didn’t know if she was seeking him to _let up_ or _carry on_.

“I’ll make a mess on your desk…” She worries, whining aloud. Because they could both hear the sloppy wet sounds mingling in the air between him as his fingers fucked her.

“I _should fucking_ hope so.” He replies with a growl into her pussy.

He doesn’t give up until she is babbling incoherent moans and sobs. And he feels her cum gushing against his tongue atleast _two_ more times. When he withdraws his fingers from her, he is _more than_ turned on by the thick slick of her cum covering them. He is infatuated with her taste as he savours the essence of her off his fingers, with his tongue. _When he felt her gush over his hand and cum hard, he swore he was shaking with holding back from shattering into an orgasm of his own. His thighs had never been so tense in all his life._ Even the way his clothing chafed across his more than hard cock, made him _ache._

 _God, the man was good._ She sighs as she lays on his desk, limp as a rag doll. She was beginning to wonder if this deal wasn’t a blessing in disguise. She hadn’t cum like that in _months_. It was if a gigantic knot he had untied and unfurled in her abdomen. Kylo had made her realise how much she _had missed_ gloriously _mind melting sex_.

After he stands, he hooks a hand around her waist and brings her up, legs dangling over the edge of his desk. Crushing her torso to his chest. He then places his hands on her thighs and pushes them apart, pulling them apart to let her see _the mess_ on his desk. A flare of arousal shudders through her when she see’s the sticky, white essence of her cum pooled below her, dripping from her well used pussy. He is transfixed by it, dragging the pad of his thumb through her lower lips. _She jolts_. Overstimulation _wracking_ her nerves.

She looks up, swallowing, as he places that _same_ thumb in his mouth. Lightly sucking the tip.

“Delicious.” He grunts. Mainly because she looked up at him as if asking permission. He smirks lightly, urging her on, her nimble hands go to his belt and unhook it, sliding it out his beltloops. That too is cast to the floor.

“Perhaps I can… _Return_ the favour?” She asks tentatively. She slips her hand down to his crotch. Rubbing the more than generous bulge in his trousers. His reaction made her oddly proud. This man was _three times_ her size and strength and she had him bucking into her, hissing a curse word at the heavenly pressure she stroked on his eager cock.

“ _Fuck._ ” He murmurs. His voice _so deep_ it could drill for oil.

He yanks her hands to his shirtfront and he doesn’t _need_ to say anything else. As she undoes his shirt, he looks earnestly down at her face with those russet eyes still _gleaming_ with want. His smooth hands softly dragging down  She imagined that both looked _as wrecked_ as each other. Wisps of hair stuck to sweat sheened faces, flushed, rosy cheeks. Where his lips were wet and red from eating her, hers were red and sore with how she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She untucked his shirt from his trousers, and lifted both sides of it apart. She pushed it down off his broad, strong shoulders. When she lets it fall, she gets another trace of his rich cologne tantalising her.

Tattoos covered almost _every inch_ of his torso. Emblazoned with sharp, clean cut tribal marks around his pecs and upper arms. She can see crucifixes, lines of text, animals, Maori style markings.

She places her hands on her hot musculature of his _divine_ torso. He was so, _solid_. Of course, Hux was in great shape. Meticulous about his diet and fitness regime. He was toned and always had been. _But Kylo’s body was, just, so, very…stacked_.

He was tall, and she is certain the width of his shoulders is passable to _twice_ her own. One hand of his abandons her thigh and slides up over her bare ass and up her spine, his fingers sneak under the clasp of her bra and with a effortless flick of his wrist, it falls away to her lap. He throws that too, to the floor. _Discarded. Unnecessary. He bites down his lip. Because even her pretty tits are perfect too._ Heavy, full. Nipples stiff, a delectable dark rosy red. He swallows, lest he start to _salivate_ to get his teeth around them.

She’s coming to learn that he is a man who _prefers not_ to beat about the bush. He grabs her in his arms and hauls her up. She clings on for dear life. He walks her across to the enormous sofa opposite his desk and sits with her pulled in his lap, his legs splayed _wide_ open. She can’t deny that the feeling of being pressed down on his erection is making her ready _, hungry_ , for another orgasm. And if he was as good with his cock as he was with his ability to leave her _trembling_ after oral sex, she had a feeling he wasn’t _through_ with her yet. Nor would he be for a good _long while._

_She wasn’t a selfish deal maker though.. and she had every reason to keep him pleased and in her good books…_

She goes to move off his lap and return his generous desktop favour, when his hand very gently cups her cheek. One big thumb smoothing over her cheekbone.  Halting her.

“Please tell me if that redheaded prick _wasn’t fucking_ you _Doll_. That someone _else was?”_ He asks. She looks into his eyes.

“Me and my husband haven’t had _, sex_ , in _months…”_ She confesses in a tiny whisper. Dropping her gaze from his. As she curiously traced the line of one of the tattoos swirled over his left pectoral.

He looks like he wants to say something to her. But _she doesn’t_ let him. She gently presses two fingers to those enviable lips. His eyes flare with something _inherently_ erotic. _Something impatient and desiring._

“But that’s _not_ important to me right now… I recall we had _a bargain,_ did _we not?”_ She flirts. Swallowing down her fear and the tragedies regarding her love life. She focuses on him now.

Her eyes travel down to his, _straining_ , crotch. Her hand slips from his lips and grazes down his exposed chest, not stopping until she cupped the _long,_ thick and throbbing length of him under her hand. Through his trousers. His hips can’t help but thrust up into the _heavenly caress_ of her hand. And she doesn’t stop there. She undoes the button and _tears_ down his fly. And in _no time at all_ , her hand, attempts, to fist about his cock and _stroking him_ slowly. Squeezing upwards from the base.

She is rewarded with his head thudding to the back of the sofa, behind his neck. She let her eyes linger on the moles scattered across _his lovely_ neck like a constellation. She watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed, his mouth split open in a moan _. He sounded completely tempting when he moaned_.

“ _Oh, shhhit. Baby_. You can _barely_ get those _pretty_ hands _around me_ …” He smirks. His neck still tilted backwards. He chuckles as his words trail off. _He can only imagine how those small fingers and bright red nails look wrapped around his cock. He would look, if he wasn’t so damn sure he’d cum in that hand as soon as he saw it._

There was no question about that. She shuddered from the _very second_ her hand came into contact with the velvet _soft, hard_ weight of him. Kylo had every reason to have a large ego. His cock was _more than impressive. He was a big boy._

As it turns out, he lifts his head to look down on her at, _exactly_ , the right moment. She spreads his trousers flat to his thighs, leaving his beautiful cock exposed for the taking. _And take it she did_.

She stroked her fist down to his thick base, and grips him _hard_ , at the same time, taking his heavy head into her mouth and hollowing her cheeks, sucking intently on him. He groans when he feels her do that. But his hands reach and _claw_ into her hair when he feels her tongue lap at the beaded precum she could taste. The salt of him spreading _all over_ her tongue.

 _“Oh, Doll_ , I swear _to g-od_ , your mouths almost as talented as that, _haa- uh,_ _tight pussy_ of yours.” He groans in-between pants as she soldiers on.

Mussing her once neatly pinned hair as his big fingers rake through it. He did _adore_ the way the _red_ strands looked twined around his pale fingers while those _red lips_ were stretched around the head of his dick.

_To say he was transfixed by this woman was a gross understatement…_

_“Shit, shit_. _SH-it_ _Fuck_. You take my cock _so well_ baby. _Oh fucking damn_. I want to bounce you on _this fucking_ cock and watch it disappear into your perfect cunt when I make you squirt for me again. I wanna watch you as _I pound you_ hard and make you cum _all over_ me. _Oh, fuck. Damn_.” He drones.

She lowers his length slowly into her mouth, not able _to quite_ take all of him. His fingers graze her mouth and he almost bucks _off_ that sofa when she swallows him down _so deep_ he almost hits the back of her throat. She feels his hips _writhe upwards_ , nudging himself further so she nearly had her nose pressed against his groin.

Groans and grunts trip unhindered from his lips now, she can feel his thick thighs tense under her hands when she presses her palms to them.  She forces his thighs down under her flattened palms as they were trembling and jerking _so_ much.

Hux was usually a quiet one during sex. Getting away with the occasional groan and grunt. He was never one for dirty talk. _And lords, did Kylo have a filthy mouth_...

Hux only seemed to whisper sweet pleas of love and adoration. _Never before has she bedded such a dirty talker._

_In their fifteen year marriage they always seemed to resort to the same-old sex positions. He was usually good for one, hour long round, before he made them both cum. He didn’t like it when she rode him, he preferred her legs wrapped around his hips as he screwed her._

_Something told her Kylo and his filthy mouth would be more into doggystyle, cowgirl, riding, and forcing her down to take his cock, bouncing her on it at his leisure._

He hits the back of her throat a couple of times, and he grinds his teeth together when he hears her gag a little. His breath is purely rasping now. Stopping and starting. He murmurs all the more when her hand reaches up and scrapes her nails, _so lightly_ , down his abs.

 _“Fucking hell_.” He relents when she pulls him out her mouth to suck only at his big, fat, head. Her other hand gently stroking the base of his cock. _He ignores the way he can feel the cool of her wedding ring on her palm she rubs him_ _up and down_.

 _“Baby._ You better get those pretty lips off me cause I need to _fuck you_.  And I need to fuck you right _now._ ” He growls.

“You don’t want _to cum, like this?”_ She asks innocently, as her tongue _laps_ at the underside of his cock. Feeling the heavy head of him slide atop her tongue.

_How could she look so fuckable and extraordinarily innocent when she was literally slaving her tongue all over his length as she spoke?_

She felt like she owed him more for that _sinful session_ of pleasure he gave to her on his desk. She practically left _a pool_ of _her cum_ there as a reminder.

“ _Believe me Doll_. As much as I’d get off from spilling my load in _that hot mouth_. Its _that cunt_ I’m wanting right now…” He speaks as he leans over and grasps her wrists.

He sits her on his lap and kisses her hungrily, tasting the salt of his own precome on her tongue as her kisses her _violently_. His hand dwarfing the back of her neck. Tasting her. Drawing her tongue into his mouth and devouring her _so strongly._ He purrs into her mouth as their teeth clash together in a _messy, yearning_ kiss. His other hand works his trousers and underwear down over his hips, over his knees, and then she feels him kick off his trousers and boots. And he was as _bare naked_ as she was.

He tucks his hands to the backs of her knees and lifts her up, and then slides her forwards, enough to let her feel how the tip of him speared her pretty lips open. _She was definitely wet enough_. She’d felt her own lust _dripping_ down her thighs when she sucked him. She mewls when she feels him grip his length and teasingly slide it to caress her labia and _slap_ against her clit. She jerks a little when she feels it, and her hand tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck. Twining through his raven locks.

“I’m gonna pump this pussy _so_ full of _my cum. Baby_. You’ll feel _me_ dripping outta you for _days_. You won’t be able to close your legs for _a week_ without feeling the _ache_ _I’m_ gonna leave in you. Trust me when I say, I _will_ fuck you _better_ and _harder_ than your _prim and proper_ hubby _ever will_.” His filthy promise was growled _savagely_ into her ear, as she felt a callused fingertip brush over her stiff clit.

She bucked forwards. But felt his _firm hands_ keep her hips in exactly the place he wanted them so she couldn’t slide forwards and swallow his cock up into her perfect cunt. His lips kiss against the side of her neck. As his free hand holds her the nape of her neck with a gentle squeeze.

“Because this _gorgeous cunt right here?_ ” He demonstrates, rubbing her clit _. And then tapping it, Hard_. So hard, she squeals and muffles her mouth on his muscled neck. Her nails gripping into his thick biceps. “…This _beautiful_ thing deserves a _real_ man to take care of it. _And baby doll,_ you _can’t_ know how _fucking glad_ I am, that tonight, it gets to be _me who wrecks you._ ” He groans.

And then he slides into her, to the hilt in _one_ push. She feels the heavy crown of his brush against her cervix. And the pain mingled with the pleasure of being stretched and stuffed _so full,_ makes her choke on a wordless gasp.

Especially so when one hand wanders to her hip to guide her to ride him, the other covers a breast and teases her nipple. Pinching and rolling it. _He can’t take it any longer_. He lifts her breast to slide it into his mouth and tug on her nipple with his teeth. Her neck cranes far back as she _whimpers._

By now, they are both so flushed with rosy pink blushes. Covered in a sheen of sweat _and both_ bursting with the need to _be fucked_ , and _cum._

He rolls his hips up into her, and _each time_ he does, they both growl and groan. He breaks away from toying her nipple, leaving a string of saliva after him as he broke away. His hand slips up her shoulder blades, and then he _really_ starts to move. As his dirty promise. He bounces her sharply down onto his cock. Lifting and then sinking her down as he guided the pace with his massive hand covering her _entire_ hip as he made her ride his dick.

They groan loudly onto each other’s mouths. He watches her body bounce as he gyrates into a _pounding rhythm_ against her. _He watches those pretty tits ripple with each thrust. He fixates on the way her thighs and ass jiggle with the sheer force of his thrusting. More so when he slaps that pretty ass as she rides him._ He lets his head loll against hers, cradling her close, squeezing her tight as he pussy flutters around his cock. He smirks against her neck, smug, as his tongue soothes over a sore, deep black, love bite on her shoulder. A previous signifier of his teeth that he’s smug to think she’ll carry round, _wearing_ , for the next week _. Evidence of him._

“ _Doll_ , I can _feel you_ clenching around me. You gonna soak my _big cock_ in your cum pretty soon, _huh?_ ” He huffs against her. His fingers are harsh, rubbing faster and harder, swirling round her clit. He gasps as she tightens down on him _even more_.

  _“Fuck_. I wanna see you cum for me. Cum for me and scream my name _so everyone_ outside that door knows what I’m _doing_ to you. Let them know who _owns you_ tonight.” He snarls, inexorable as he drove her to reach her second peak of the night.

“ _Oh, Kylo. Kylo…_. Holy Fuckkk. _God_ …” She squirms, her hands hooking into him as she felt her body pulse and quiver, and before she knows it, an all body orgasm shatters through her every nerve as he _pounds_ the pleasure into her. Getting _fucking giddy_ off the sounds of her pussy _slurping_ around his cock as he drove her to cum.

_And when he gets here there, she does scream for him, after all._

Her mouth gapes in an _unbelieving_ silent cry. He is left adoring how her pussy soaks, not only _his length_ , but _his thighs too_. He said he’s make her cum all over him. _And he could feel that now, her wetness splattered across the inside of his thigh_. He had to bite her neck down _, hard_ , to keep from cumming in her just yet. He fucks her, _somewhat more carefully_ , through the aftershocks. His thumbs stroking over her fleshy hips as he feels her quake and whine. Where she clung to him, he feels the hot sting of her nails _digging_ into his skin. She sags into his body she pants for breath. Groaning as she slides her other hand free from his hair. _She is amazed she didn’t tear any out at the goddamn roots_.

“You _weren’t lying_.” She almost sobs. _Literally sobs_. He feels a hot drop of her tear run down his bicep. Sliding down his skin. He hopes it was in the _astoundingly-best-fuck-I’ve-had-for-ages-way_ and not the saddened way.

“I _never lie_ when it comes to fucking beautiful women…” He pledges. Smiling like the devil himself as he ghosts her tears away with a swipe of his thumb. “You _ok there_ , baby doll?” He sighs, smug. Raising one eyebrow in concern.

_Bastard._

“I- _Uh!_ ” She yelps again as he takes her by surprise and _attacks_ whilst the guard was down. He flattens her back to the sofa beside her, pinning her down, pulling her knees up into his hands, tugging her sharply down on his cock again. One hand wraps about her back. Cupping her shoulder blades as he resumes his pounding into her. The other hand grabbing her thigh. He cages her in the corner of his sofa and goes _to town_.

 _Christ, this man’s stamina was out of this world. She almost couldn’t fathom that he was real._ He had the potent sexual endurance of a teenage boy, with the lasting power of a man.

“ _Fuck_ , I can feel your cum _dripping outta_ you, baby.” He smiles against her shoulder, his hips smacking into hers with _bruising_ force. He can feel his abdomen _tense_ and _clench_ , an indication he was not at all far off _from filling her_ up like he’d promised. He cups the back of her head and delivers another messy kiss to her mouth. _She likes how she can still taste a trace of herself and her previous orgasm on his lips._

She was _positive_ by now he’d kissed most of her lipstick away. _She found it somehow endearing and cute that he wore a rosy red trace of it on his mouth_. And on the side of his neck where she’d earlier tried to _muffle_ her ecstatic cries. He had boasted and growled how he wanted to leave his marks on her, yet, it thrilled her to see she’d clawed back some equal victory in the raking nail marks that were scratched down his shoulders. Red, _sore looking_ , crescents from her nails bitten into his pale, beauty marked skin.

He starts to unravel. _She felt so hot, and wet around him._ He could _feel_ it wasn’t going to take a whole lot more for him to _succumb_ to his orgasm that he’d been putting off chasing after all night. He pants and moans, his head throwing back as he shuddered a moan, praising god, heaven and this bombshell of a woman under him as he starts to feel himself edge closer. One of her hands _rakes_ down his dewy back. He shivers at the sensation of pleasure mixed with the sweet edge of pain.

_God, how did she do that? drive him half mad, deliriously horny, when he was not five seconds away from pounding her raw, and cumming?_

“Oh, _Sid_ …” He gasps, his teeth scraping over her pulsing jugular _. Her sweat tastes as sweet as her pussy and her kissable lips._

 _“Fuck. Baby. Gonna_ cum in _you.”_ He warns, feeling her clench and tense too. Their bodies married the trail of sweat of their torsos when they rubbed together. Sliding, slipping on one another. His biceps shiver with the strain of holding her up. But he doesn’t relent. He pounds her, pulling her harder and harder onto his cock, his thumb managing to seek out her clit again, rubbing the taut little thing in furious circles. He ruts forwards, thrusting three more times, sinking into her _furiously_ deep. He hears her purr his name in another keening whine. Her pussy pulsates and clenches _so tight_ around him He _slams_ his hand into the cushion beside him, muscles _straining_ , _Like a predator ready to pounce_. _Every_ vein in straining up under his flushed, hot skin. Every muscle clenched to chase after this _phenomenal_ abyss of pleasure.

His orgasm rips through him like _sweet, sweet high. Higher_ a gale force hurricane. And he _cannot for the life of him_ remember sex with any of his other partners being _this, damn, good…_

 _And it lasts, and lasts… and lasts…._ He is very ashamed to say that he whines after he finishes spilling every last drop into her. His chest sinking and falling as he pants. He only then realises how _drenched_ in sweat he is. His hair curling with damp at the nape of his neck. Sticking great black curls flush to his forehead too. He summons his strength that her and their sex had sapped from him, and leans himself up on his elbows, either side of her body, to gaze at her…

_He smirks when he sees she is just as wrecked as he is…_

She lays under him, shaking and gasping. He watches beads of sweat wriggle down her throat. Her head thudded back against the sofa as she shut her eyes and purred his name. He quite liked the way thick tendrils of her hair _now plastered_ to her neck in wavy curls. His eyes just devour her for a moment as she got her breath back. Her rosy nipples _still_ pebbled hard into points. His teeth marks pressed in the deepest purple crescents _all over_ her neck and shoulders. _Perhaps he should have been more careful about that… After all, he had to send her off home to Hux now._

 _He can’t resist._ One hand cards up over her hair. He watches her eyes peek open, _hooded_ , to watch him loom over her. His towering figure pinning her to the sofa. Her legs were still tangled under his weight. Her arms stroking his back, before slipping down off him. _She had no hope of easy escape_.

She is boneless. _Spent. Exhausted_. And it takes an awful lot of energy for her to find her voice. In her hazy, post-fuck daze. She opens her mouth. And he silences her. He ducks his head down and rewards her with the _sweetest kiss_ she’s ever known. When he pulls away, her head slumps back, and he sees her heartbeat hammering her jugular. She lets out a sigh.

“ _Sidney. Honey_. You and your pussy the _best damn things_ that have _ever_ walked through my office door.” He tells her with a flirty smile, sucking a love bite onto her ribs.

 

~

 

She comes too _slowly_. A clicking sound waking her.

The second thing she is aware of, is the pounding sound rattling through her skull. When she opens her eyes a fraction more, it is a blur of red and black that greets her. And that pounding wasn’t her head. But rather the atmospheric throb that wracks her body is the bassy tempo of the electro music still pouring wall to wall through the club down below them.

She blinks. And then again. And _then_ the world tilts back into focus… _She was still in Kylo’s office_. This was evident by the scene before her. Which happened to be _the man_ himself.

He was leant against the edge of his desk once more. He’d slid his dress trousers back on, but that solid, _firm_ , tattooed torso was still bare. That clicking she’d heard was him flicking a zippo lighter into action, lighting the cigarette that was tucked between his plump lips. His feet were bare, and he looked so blissfully relaxed. _Contented._

 _Shame_ rolls through her. _The full implication of what she had done struck her now like a mallet hitting a bell._

She was an adulterer.  A traitor. A cheater. _A Renegade_. She’d sold her body to this _big, bad powerful_ man to satisfy a debt her husband took. She swallows. The previous hazy mood of sex and euphoria now fully dissipated. She was left out in the cold, stark reality of what she _had done_.

When she shifts her body to move, a cramp flared sharply with a sting through her belly. _Fuck, that would make him right._ She curses in her head. He had promised she’d feel the, _implications,_ of their coupling for _a week_ afterward.

_Damn that perfect, big cocked, tattooed, handsome. Prick. He’d been right about that._

She pressed her hands to the sofa beside her, amazed to feel a soft, woolly texture wrapped around her. She sits up further to find a big, charcoal grey Moreno wool blanket, with red tassels, tucked over her _very_ naked body. He had also unclipped the silver hairclip from the back of her head, and put it next to her as she rested, so she was more comfortable.

_Double damn him._

_She was supposed to hate him. He was supposed to fuck her and cast her aside. Not do loving little touches like that..._ She fumes irrationally.  

She sits up slowly. Her mouth feeling furry from her sleep. _God knows how long that had been_. She needs to get home before Hux worries…. She begins to scan for her clothes, scattered all over his office….. And just like that, her real life comes crashing _down_ on her _all over_ again. Her responsibilities as _a wife. Her duties_. Her _obligation_ to go home and get into bed beside man she’d just _cheated on._

Kylo took a drag from his cigarette, _smirking_ across at her as she re-joined him the land of the living. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb over his smile, his other hand fidgeting with his cigarette. One finger circling the fingernail of the other. There sits a refilled glass of whisky by his side.

She comes to an ungraceful stand. Her thighs tugging and squirming with a painful stretch as she stood. _He had dicked her down so good, she is certain the effects will continue for a whole lot longer than a week_ …

She keeps the blanket cocooned around her. Her cheeks feeling suspiciously hot as she smiles nervously at him.

“I. _um_. How do we, uh…” She began, wetting her lips. Pointing between them. Averting her _embarrassed_ gaze. One hair reaching around to fix the knotted hair at he back of her head.

He simply smiles at her.

“I’ll get in touch with your husband tomorrow and let him know that our deal is _absolved_. Tell him he, uh, needs to spend that fucking money of mine _wisely, baby_. Cause _, hell._ You _damn sure_ earned him _that.”_ He purrs as he drags his cigarette. Grey smoke pluming from his smirk thereafter.

He straightens and wanders closer to her. Stopping close enough to take her in his arms again. She wants to shrink down inside her blanket toga as he looms over her. Coming with him, shifting on the air, is a fragrance of expensive tobacco, whisky and _that alluring_ cologne. With his unoccupied hand, he shifts a tiny lock of her fringe off her face. She’s sure she blushes beet red at that…

“Best you get _home_ to him _, Doll.”_   He suggests, dragging in smoke once more, turning his head to blow it away from her direction. She nods, but he, apparently, wasn’t done there… His hand finds her hip, and strokes it teasingly…

“And… If you _ever_ need someone to _fuck you_ again if that husband of yours doesn’t come to his _damn_ senses...” He leers 

“You come find _me_.” He purrs with a wink.

 

~

 

 


	3. Marital Harmony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Here we meet Hux. And Kylo Ren is a shameless, shameless man. (I still love him) god help me. That boy is a prick tease...

 

 

All was dark when she got home. _Thank Christ_. She slid her body back against the front door to shut it. Her murderous shoes hooked from her hands, Her coat folded over her arm. Hair mussed, lipstick smeared. Still dewy from her ‘ _exertions.’_ She was doing a _very obvious_ walk of shame. She was only too pleased their omnipresent doorman, Parker, didn’t work past midnight. If he saw her in this state, eyebrows would _doubtless raise._

She padded softly into the hallway. Her head down as she tiptoed through, knowing if she looked up, she’d see the photos of her and Hux lining the walls. Photos of birthdays, anniversaries, and their time together in Paris. She’d see those hazy, watercolour memories of their life, and that would _break her heart_ all over _again_.

She’d known Hux since she was _eighteen_. And had _loved him_ since she _was 21._ They had got engaged and eloped to Tuscany the week after they both graduated college. They had met in Oxford when she was a student, studying History of the Arts, at St. Ebbes College. He was studying classics at St. Johns. After their graduation, she accepted a job offer as an assistant to the curator of the Louvre, and he joined her in Paris. The only family she had left, was still there. Her Aunt Joséphine. And her Uncle Victoire lived there, and they visited the big apple from time to time.

Joséphine - _never liking to be referred to as Grand-Mère for fear of how it aged her_ \- was a flighty, elite, rich socialite who jumped from marriage to marriage, she wasn’t maternal in _the slightest_. She was a stick insect, _glamazonian_ of an elder woman. She drank vodka martinis like they were going out of style, and had impressed upon Sid from an early age the importance of _fashion, chic,_ and _elegance,_ and the _crucial importance_ of one’s wardrobe. She wasn’t a loving presence, but _she loved_ her granddaughter _fiercely_ , more than _anything_ in the world. In her own, unique, formal and reserved way. She always ensured her _petit trésor_  was provided for through her education, and had _always_ spoilt her _rotten_ as a girl.

Though she didn’t have _an abundance_ of people who loved her, she had never gone _one day_ on this earth feeling _unloved_.

 _Hux and Joséphine were all the family she had in the world_. She sighs, thinking how she had let them _both down_ tonight. She wondered what, _typically Josephine,_ attitude her relative would have towards her recent _foray_ into adultery. Sid _loved_ the woman, but her attitude to loyalty and monogamy, was famously, _non-existent._ At the last count, she was on husband number _eight_. So her opinions on Sid’s _disloyalty_ tonight was a comment she didn’t care to hear.

She made her way through to the open plan kitchen and lounge. The place was spotless, as Hux usually kept it, and Millie, Hux’s Cat, the _second love of his life_ , lay curled asleep on her favourite arm chair. Outside the large bay windows that overlooked the sitting room, she could see the midnight moon on the sycamore trees, rustling in the wind outside, in the dense, still, blue night. Sirens wailed off in the distance, and there is hardly any commotion of footfalls and voices out on the street. It was the lull of the city at peace. Their luxurious, modern penthouse in Midtown was quiet tonight. _Which only made the worries and thoughts in her head seem louder by comparison._

They had moved to New York when Hux received a big promotion to a large multinational, _highly influential_ company in the financial district, of which he was made vice president. She had been a curator to a small gallery in les Marais in Paris. In moving halfway across the world a year ago, she was promoted to manager _and_ owner of a prestigious, converted townhouse Gallery, Rêverie, on the Upper East. Her work she _adored,_ and she’d have followed Hux to _the moon_ if he’d asked it of her.

Though she did _miss her Paris_ from time to time. New York always seemed so rushed, so _noisy_. So callous. It _truly wa_ s the loud city that never slept. Paris had a certain _geniality_ about it, and in the summer, of an evening, outside a café, with a French cigarette, a glass of red wine, and a good book, to her, that was when the city just _sang_. She missed walking along the Siene, and crossing the pont des arts on a rainy autumnal afternoon. And of course, she missed the cuisine. It was no wonder she was _as plump_ as she was, her diet in Paris _luxuriously decadent._ Cappuccinos with full fat milk, cream, sugar, pastries, chocolat, fine French food and _copious amounts_ of expensive wine. She’d _never_ limited her lifestyle to such an extent to worry about her size. Even if she did lose weight, her body shape underneath would _remain_. That was as much as part of her as her _arms_ and _legs._

She hung her coat up in the hall, and crept quietly to the bedroom. The door was shut, and she softly pushed it open. When their grey and white bedroom came into view, she saw the familiar figure sprawled out on his front, in the huge expanse of their pristine white bed. No shirt on, as he always slept without one. He was facing the door, his face relaxed, soft, in sleep. One arm thrown up by his side, the other in the same position, resting on the pillow by his head. Dark eyelashes resting on those pale cheeks, stark cheekbones pushing up under his skin. His copper hair, short back and sides and longer on the top, was mussed against his pillow. She watched his back rise and fall gently. She crosses over and places a sweet kiss to his exposed cheekbone, before beelining to the bathroom before she burst into _tears on_ him.

_Why didn’t he tell her he’d taken money from a loan shark? Why didn’t he consult her about it? And why on earth was she so angry? Was she angry at herself, or at him? She couldn’t really distinguish it._

Her feet made barely a whisper on the thick carpet, and she bites down her wobbling lip and heads to their ensuite. She shuts the door and begins tearing off her clothes with tears spearing her eyes. She strips out of her _, ruined_ , dress, seeing the zipper had been _torn away_ from the fabric at the back. _One of her favourite dresses too, bastard._ She quickly screwed it into a ball and stuffed in the laundry when she found the certain _white stains,_ a combination of _her and Ren_ , near the hem. She shuddered, and hid it at the bottom of the hamper which she’d get to _first thing_ tomorrow. She hooks her bra off, and sharply drags her underwear down her legs. She grimaced when she saw that same _stain_ at the crotch. She saw that white, slick wetness was still stringing between her legs…

 _After all, he had made a lewd promise to fill her up when he came. He’d certainly kept his damn word on that._ As soon as she stood from that sofa in his office tonight, she’d felt the tell-tale _ooze and rush_ of sticky, thick fluid between her thighs. She didn’t know if it was more his, or hers. Cause he’d made her cum, _damn hard,_ tonight.

She braced herself against the counter, and regarded her reflection with quiet revulsion for a second. Looking at herself with hatred and nausea. Looking at the love bites ringing _like a collar_ about her neck. His fingernail marks branded into her thigh where’d he bounced her on his lap. _Stupid, stupid, stupi_ d. _She remarks._

She takes her ruined undergarments and rinses them under the cold tap, numbing her fingers in the process and washing away her sins. _Though she still felt dirty_. She then confined the scrap of red lace to the bin. They were _coco de mer_ , but she didn’t hesitate. She was trashing _all evidence_ of her infidelity. Once naked, she ignored her sullied reflection in the huge bathroom mirror, and steps into the enclosed glass cubicle of the shower. She turns on the water to piping hot, and she scrubs at every inch of her skin until the soap and her touch _stings._ Her skin tainted a violent lobster pink by the time she was done.

Signifiers of her married life were creeping up on her everywhere she looked. Reaffirming the horror and guilt that _was eating away_ at her. Their _two_ toothbrushes mingled, sat in the same glass by the sink. _Both_ their dressing gowns hung up on the back of the door. The twin _his-and-her_ sinks sat on the marble side counter. _Left for her, right for him_. Surrounded by their bath products.

 _She feels stupid. Angry, and ashamed._ And she lets the stinging hot water drive away her tears of frustration.

_What had she done to them?_

When she shut her eyes to wash her hair, images of _Ren_ _still ricocheted_ through her head. She could feel his teeth on her neck. _That big cock of his moving inside her, dragging along her walls. That callused thumb relentlessly circling her clit. Those lips by her ear snarling at her to ‘cum for me, doll’_ She opens her eyes and rubs her face, as if to _will them_ away. How she was going to get _any_ sleep tonight without _visions of him haunting her head_ was her _largest_ worry.

She dries herself in a loveless manner, and after scrubbing away her ruined makeup, she goes for Hux’s wardrobe and helps herself to one of his dress shirts. She lifts it to her nose and _inhales_ the collar. A clean, simple scent of their washing powder, his aftershave and the underlining scent of _home_ filling her senses. She pulls it on and buttons it up, rolls the sleeves. And joins her beloved in bed.

She lifts the covers and sinks under them, onto the mattress. She shuffles to get comfy, and watched her bed mate stir and roll over to face her with a sleepy groan. His head turning her way, she watches him open his hooded eyes, and then his seafoam blue coloured gaze is piercing across at her from his pillow. He sniffs, and his voice is a _gruff husk_ when she speaks.

“It’s _4:00_ in the morning, _Sid._ Why _so late?”_ He asks kindly.

“Lost track of time with _the girls.”_ She apologises. “You know what Sabine and Em are like when they _get going_ …” She explains with a soft smile. Reaching over and smoothing her hand through those tamed red locks. Feeling the soft lushness of them due to his washing his hair earlier. His mandarin and clary sage shampoo that she loved _clung_ to his suit when he left for work.

“They dragged me to that new club in Soho. The supposedly _trendy one_ that’s just opened on Broome Street. The bar was _rammed,_ but _luckily_ their bar staff were women so we _just kept sending_ Poe on over with _his charm_ to fetch the drinks in.” She explains chuckling, stroking the strayed strands of red back behind his ears.

He hummed in contentment and in answer to her anecdote. His eyes sliding shut once more

Sabine and Emilio worked with her at the gallery. Sabine had actually been her assistant when she procured her gallery in Paris. She was _such_ a good PA, it was _no trouble_ for Sid to recruit her to come to New York to help her set things up here. She was the lynchpin of the gallery, at the reception desk, her sweet smile, slight French trace on her accent, and warm brown doe eyes were the _finest welcome_ imaginable for clients and buyers. She was tall too, legs like _a giraffe._ The girl had a proud Caribbean-French heritage. She wore her hair natural, and celebrated the colour of her skin, and who she was in a way that Sid _thoroughly admired_. Emilio was her feisty, _very vicious_ and _very brilliant_  Art Consultant. He was a fiery Latino, tinder-obsessed, bed hopper who never had the same boyfriend for two _weeks running._ Then there was Poe _._ Who was a recent addition to Rêverie’s team. A ladies man if she _ever saw one_ , but he was a _gorgeous_ friend and as fine an Art Valuer as she had _ever_ come across. She was proud of her team, and she loved them all _to bits_. Yet, they were all bright, young (save for Poe who _was_ nearer her age) energetic beings and made _good, thorough use_ of New York’s Nightclub scene _very often._ And once in a while they did manage to drag _their old cranky boss_ out on the town to blow the cobwebs away.

_Of course, for tonight, that excuse of hers was a thorough lie…_

She wishes _she had_ been sat around a table, in a crammed bar, in some trendy downtown club. Where the music was thunderous, and the cocktails were cold. She’d wished she’d put on one of her tight pencil dresses, and Prada heels she _loves so much_ , and went out on the town to drink and gossip with her friends. Sat cackling with them over a round of porn star martini’s. She wanted her cheeks to ache from laughing with her friends. Not her heart to feel sore and guilty because she had sold her body away to a loan shark impresario _. Never mind how intoxicating he was…_

She admires her husband as he rests, her thumb brushing softly over his cheek. She lets a quiet sigh leave her lips as she shuffles closer and entwines her calves with his. Her cooling skin rubbing against his warmed feet.

“ _Hux…_ ” She seeks in a whisper. Searching as to whether he had fallen back to sleep. There was a second of silence before he grunted his eyebrows raised as he listened to her…

“Mnnfm _m?”_ He sought. She worried her lip between her bottom teeth.

“Why don’t _we go out_ to dinner tomorrow night? I only need to be in the gallery in the afternoon to oversee Thursdays show go up. I could make a reservation at Jean-Georges? We could go for a drink at the Regis like we used too? Walk through the park?” She smiles, her hand questing for him under the covers. She meets the hot, soft skin of his shoulder and hooks her hand over him, sliding closer. Twirling a pattern over the freckles and moles that she knew _better_ than her own.

He sighs. And her _smile fades_.

“I _can’t_ tomorrow. Sweet pea. I’ve got a meeting at six and a conference call after. By the time I get back here with evening traffic, it’ll be _too late_ for Jean-Georges.” He explains.

“It was _just_ a _thought_ …” She whispers. Resigned.

“Will you make it to _the show_ , on Thursday?” She asks softly. Perfectly expecting his excuse at this stage to be work related in some manner. She could give him _all the notice_ in the world, _and still_ come second as he stayed late for a conference call, or an international client phoning at _an insane_ time at night. Or a _suddenly urgent_ business dinner he had to rush off to, to try and broker a deal. Hux had always been _unremittingly loyal_ to his _work ethic_. She knew that about him. But just _once,_ just _for one night_ , she wished he’d lay his work aside, and remember _her_.

She knew she was being _annoyingly_ persistent. But after tonight, she just wants to spend _some time_ with her husband. _Try and wipe away the memories of Ren if she could._ She is _struggling_ to remember the last time they sat and ate dinner together, at home, without him spending 80% of his time on calls, or emailing. She’d been half tempted in the past to throw his phone in _the sink_ to get him to put the damn thing _down._ He must have sensed her hostility in the past, because he offered the _refractory_ excuse that they were on the verge of closing a huge international deal. That justification had been keeping him busy _for months_ now.

She can, _vaguely,_ remember the last time they had a proper, _all inclusive, romantic,_ date night. It had been Valentines day. He came home early, surprised her. They ordered take-out. And shared a bottle of wine. She lit candles, and they cuddled on the sofa watching all their favourite old black and white movies. It Happened One Night, Paper Moon, and the Philadelphia Story. Though the wine _, and_ the romantic films did lead to some spectacular _, yet very tipsy sex,_ on that sofa. And she remembers they both watched the snow fall outside the window in the afterglow. Wrapped in a blanket together. Her sprawled on his chest, between his long legs. _That had been the last time she felt close to him. The last time she felt like she mattered…_

“I’ve asked my secretary to clear _some time_ for Thursday.” He tells. _How romantic,_ Sid laments. She nods, and turns on her back to try and get some rest. She’d turned his shirt collar up and prayed her long hair covered up her neck and shoulders in the morning, so he didn’t see _the bruises_ Ren had left.

She slept fitfully. _As she knew she would_. She kept visualising tousled _raven hair_. _Dark eyes_ and Jet _black tattoos_ scrawled on pale skin.

 

~

 

When she woke up. Hux’s side of the bed was empty. Cold.

A bruised, slanted and colourful dawn was _barely just_ cracking over the top of the tall buildings that surrounded their home. Peaches and pinks promised the incoming advance of a sunny, New York day. She’d vaguely felt him pressing a warm kiss to her forehead before he left for work. His warm lips, and minty breath bringing with him the peppery, strong sandalwood essence of his cologne. And _off_ he went.

She blinks fully awake, sitting up in bed. The covers slipping away from her. She was loathing the way her abdomen still _ached_ from yesterday. A pain like a cramp niggling at her belly to re-remind her of her activity. She decides that its nothing a Jo Malone scented soak in the bath, can’t _fix_. Sadly it was far too early for a glass of red wine to go with it. She discards Hux’s shirt on the way to the bathroom, and shrugs on her silk dressing gown. A Parisienne lounge robe that Joséphine had brought her for her thirtieth birthday. A tea blue silk embroidered with red flowers. She wraps it around herself and pours expensive products into their big tub.

A polite knock at the front door resounds through the apartment. She stirs the water once with her hand, swirling around the jasmine scented bubbles. The steam filling the room, before she flicks the water off her fingers and sashays quickly toward the door. Millie was awake and prowling around for her breakfast. Sid pets her as she rubs her furry self against her calves. Sid tells her to wait a moment. She peeks through the viewer and see’s their concierge, bedecked in a spotless, crisp grey suit. Hair groomed to perfection. Tie laying straight down his chest in a sharp right angle. In his hands he held a garment bag and an elegant tan box tied with a huge white bow. She swings open the door with a smile.

“Good Morning Mitaka.” She smiles wearily. She imagined the bags under her eyes were a puffy, sorry sight.

“ _Only just_ , Mrs Hux. I hope I didn’t _wake you_ …” He asks politely. Inclining his head.

“No. You’re guiltless of that charge, Mitaka. I believe Millie would be at _my ankles_ soon wanting her breakfast as it is.” She explains with a kind smile. _She was always so kind, and genial. She was one of his best tenants in this building, always sent him and their staff money and baked goods every year at Christmas and on their birthdays…_

“I see Ma’am.” He chuckles. “Anyway, This just arrived for you. Couriered, I took the liberty of signing for it and thought I’d bring it up.” He smiles, showing her the garment bag. And the box her balanced carefully on one hand.

She frowns lightly. A crinkle crowning the space between her brows.

“I wasn’t aware I’d _ordered_ anything…” She informs him. “Is there _a name_ , at all?” She asks with a confused smile.

She didn’t _put it past_ her Aunt to send her clothes from Paris. _Again._ She sent her half the spring line of Lacroix _last year_. And a simple two lines on the note that was utterly Joséphine. It had said; _‘A girl can never go wrong with a lot of Lacroix, this is your bit of Paris from me, mon chou. Bisous from me and Victoire._ ’

“ _No name_ left with it Ma’am. But there is a note, _inside_ …” He tells her. She smiles as she accepts the bag he passed over to her. She took it, and the box too. She glanced down at the scrawled golden text on the box. _Coco De Mer_?

He passed the items into her hands and smiled so wide it made his crows feet wrinkle.

“You have a _good day_ now. Mrs Hux.” He chirps, and disappears and leaves a cloud of his usual cologne lingering in the space he’d just vacated.

She blinked after he departed. Laden with boxes and bags, she steps back into the apartment and stands in the hallway. Stunned. _Like a rabbit caught in headlights…_

She lays the box down on the kitchen island. And then the garment bag, and goes to wrangle down the zip. Millie chirrups a meow and leaps up onto the island, sniffing idly at the box and _wondering why_ it didn’t look like her breakfast…

“Did you _order this?”_ Sid asks the cat, who gave her an innocent golden eyed stare as her tail flicked, and swished.

As she zips it down, she sees the material underneath peek through. It was a deep wine, burgundy colour. Stretch crepe fabric, and satin lined. She pulls the hanger out of its black prison and surveys it. It was retro wriggle dress, with cuffed sleeves and a Queen Anne neckline that fell off the shoulder. And she baulks slightly when she sees the label is Valentino. _This was a priceless vintage dress. No note though…_

She peeks in the bag, _nothing_. She eyes, very carefully, the Coco box. With an annoyed sigh she sharply unwraps the thick silken bow and lets it fall to the sides. She grasps the lid and lifts _and when_ she sees what is nestled on the perfumed tissue paper beneath, she feels guilt and disbelief, and an odd pang of indignation sizzle at her stomach.

It was a beautiful set of lingerie. A sage, minty green. Expensive lace cups that looked sheer and naughty, yet still elegantly seductive. The knickers to match were briefs, and were just as finely crafted out of the same colour lace. Softer than silk. Here, was where she found the note and when she read the handwriting. She stormed off angrily to see to her bath. Dropping the piece of paper in disgust. Tears spearing her eyes. Not able _to believe_ what her eyes just read…

_‘The Dress is to make up for the one I ruined. Maybe if you need to, you could let me ruin this one, I'd grab at that chance._

_And this box, is because I knew this would look fucking fine on you, Doll. - K.R.’_

_~_

 


	4. Artful Inclinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo is proper smitten, here. Sid, less so. Poe knows whassup. And he ain't sayin what....

 

 

Rêverie was a place Sid was _proud_ to call her second home. She’d only been in charge for a year, but in that year, the big, cavernous, modern space perched proudly on the corner of 2nd Avenue and East 75th street, had muscled in and earned a _particular spot_ in her heart. It was a far cry from the modest shopfront gallery she’d become used too in Paris. She could fit twenty of her Paris galleries into this current one. Glass dominated the front of the building onto the busy New York street. Taxis and foot traffic rushed and blared by constantly. The entire inside space was clinically white, and echoing. It was airy and boasted a great amount of natural light in the day, and it glowed at night with the modern lighting highlighting the works proudly displayed on the walls.

Tonight, the mood in the air made the place look sultry. The clientele were all young, and glamourous. Having flocked all the way in from Brooklyn to see the seminal works and sculptures of a very trendy, Brazilian born urban artist, Gilmar Ribiero. His exhibition inspired by his native country and what he found, _spiritually,_ in the streets of NYC. The music that filled the air in Rêverie infused into the late night chill atmosphere that nourished the eager crowds. The drink starts to flow, _only the best_ French champagne _of course_ , and efficient waiters glide around the room with trays upon trays of pass hors d’oeuvres. Even the catering was funky. A fusion of Pan-Asian and Vietnamese street food.

She had been here to oversee the curation and configuration of the exhibit, and after allowing the caterers to set up in their corner, and ensuring everything was ready for the show, she retired to her office. Her little nook nestled down the corridor off the staff quarters. It was a narrow, airy office. Her clean, scandi-influenced area of tranquillity. The only wall that wasn’t filled, floor to ceiling with books, and buyers catalogues, was the wall of windows to the right of her desk, which let in plenty of sunshine in the morning. One perk of her office that she was thankful for, was the small bathroom she had branching just off it. She strips her clothes and showers, changing into her dress for tonight’s show. It was a retro pencil dress, black, but with a stark splash of colour where the shoulders were folded down to show the stark red lining, cutting a sharp v neck down the back and front. Showing a little cleavage, but a teasing amount, nothing too flashy. She teemed her dress with a cinching red waist belt, black tights and black laboutins. She loved the peep of red that teased from the soles of her feet when she wore them. Her hair she wrangled into a usual updo, but tonight she left it unruly. Messily gathered into a unorganised bun, with light wisps framing her ears and the nape of her neck. Her makeup she leaves fairly neutral too. A flick of black eyeliner emphasising her blue eyes and a slick of matte red on her lips.

She spritzes her perfume on her neck and wrists, and with one final look in the mirror, she pats her hands on her voluptuously large hips, and sighs, tutting that _‘That’ll have to do’_ as she crosses her office, leaving the light off, but the one on her desk illuminating the space with a soft, honey gold glow. She re-joins the main gallery. Seeing the room was significantly busier than it had been when she’d exited it. She could see Poe, cutting a dashing figure in his Givenchy suit, giving out orders to some of the catering staff. Emilio was walking Gilmar through his show, smiling at the artist as he gestured emblematically through the air as he spoke. Sabine was _nowhere_ to be seen, _but_ , Sid supposes she may have gone home early to get changed for the show. Poe finished speaking to the little group around him, breaking away and leaving the waitresses flustered and blushing with a dazzling reminder of his showstopping smile.

He swaggers over to his boss, as he does up his navy suit jacket. As he stops close to her an alluring tug of his usual boss cologne breezes in her direction.

“Boss. You look _spectacularly_ fine and ravishing this evening. You _sure_ you’re still happily married?” He flirts. Sid tilts an eyebrow at him. Not able to help the smile that tugged gently at her lips.

“ _As immune_ to your charms as I am. Dameron. I have and will warn you time and time again about this. If you get the wait staffs number, you _will_ call them back after your sordid one night stand, because _otherwise_ they refuse to show up to work, and then the caterers won’t come back, and the burden falls to me to source a new reliable, and decent company. All because _you failed_ to keep it in your pants and shag the waitresses.” She berates him in a low tone. Poe atleast has the decency to look _a tiny_ bit sheepish.

“Only _one set_ of digits this time, Sugar. I promise I’ll be a gentleman.” He smirks offhandedly. She recognised the devilish glint in his eyes. She narrows hers. She looks across to the waiting staff who were gathering their trays to pass around. One blonde in particular with pretty green eyes blushed as she gazed across at him.

“Look. Poe. She’s _sweet_. Try and _be good_ to this one, hmm? Cause I won’t fall for those big brown _doe eyes_ again anytime soon, should you _need saving…”_ She smiles.

She’d stepped in a fair few times when eager pretty girls had come to the Gallery in search of him. It would usually involve Poe bursting into her office in a mad frenzy. To which she’d sigh and put whatever she was doing down and sigh at him, with her glasses perched on her nose, as she stared him down like a beautiful librarian shushing the noisy patron. _‘Not again, Poe…_ ’ She’d groan. Before standing up, smoothing her skirt down, and clacking past him in her tall heels with an irate expression as he mimed bowing in worship to her and kissing the back of her hand as she sidled past.

 It was the same old routine. _He hid_ in her office, and _she’d go out_ and tell the poor girl _that she_ was Poe’s wife, and what did they want to see him about? After the poor girl stammered an excuse and made a hasty exit, she’d march back to her office. Grab the nearest art catalogue and swat him upside the head with it, as he tried to hug her, smile, charm, and exclaim she was _the best boss in the world. Nay, the universe_. _And yes_ , he’d treat her to many drinks and dinners in her valiant honour. _“You owe me a pornstar martini from now and every day until I’m in a wooden box, Poe.” She’d tell him. He’d waggle his eyebrows, and reply “Any other pornstar duties I can perform for you, Sugar?” With that certain grin. And then she’d be forced to throw a pillow, or book, or her shoe, at him._

“How about I fetch Madame Hux, a glass of the champagne she loves so much? and she can kick my sorry _butt later?”_ He smiles sweetly.

_Kissass, she smirks._

_“Thankyou_. Troublemaker. But I’ll keep a clear head until I’ve overseen some interview with Gilmar and the press…” She tells. Poe leans close and hugs her, smacking a gentle kiss to her cheek, feeling her smile.

“I really _do think_ you are the best boss a guy could ask for. _Sugar._ ” He smiles, rubbing her back. “And I’m _twice as blessed_ to have you as a friend…” He promises her. “That’ll never change…” He tells her firmly. She smiles back. Cupping his handsome cheek. Feeling the force of his smile wrinkle under her palm.

They broke away and stood admiring the fairly thronging crowds in the gallery, walking about, enjoying the low light of the atmosphere. They had dimmed the lights a tad now, so only the artworks and sculptures were the things highlighted under the powerful spotlights. There were tall leaning tables dotted throughout the room, covered with white table clothes. With candle centrepieces. The mood was sultry and the music cooed and thudded through the air with a heady beat and a late lounge vibe to it. Sid watched people admire the pieces. Knowing it wouldn’t be long before she’d have to break out the red dots to assign to the nameplates in situ with the pieces, signifying their sale.

“Good crowds tonight…” Poe smiles. Still stood beside her as they both watched down over the gallery they loved. Her office was on the second floor, looking down across the lobby. They stood behind the glass partition that separated them from the edge spilling over into the ground floor exhibit, dominated by the street facing, glass wall of windows that made up the front of the gallery. Sid nodded. Agreeing with his statement.

“Riley & Desmond are the best firm for the PR. They can really drum up business for us. _By far_ the best agency we’ve ever had…. They really _got the word out_ about Gilmar. And he’s a _local hit_ in Brooklyn _anyway. That_ draws crowds on _its own.”_ Sid smiles. A little warm glimmer of pride in her stomach when she thought they’d but opened the doors half an hour ago, and already the place was starting to fill up. She could see Emilio making the rounds and chatting amiably below. She searched for Sabine, but still couldn’t see the girl anywhere.

“Sabine _about?_ ” Sid asked him with a wrinkled frown of concern. She couldn’t see her afro hair or sinuous form below them anywhere in the busy assembly. Poe wet his lips, and answered. She didn’t look at him. Therefore she didn’t see the _oh-so fleeting look_ of apprehension that crossed his face as he looked over at his Boss for a second.

“She went home to get her… _outfit_ for tonight.” He explained.

“She had gone when _I went_ to change….” Sid seeks. Turning to look at him. Poe plastered a smile on his face and reassured her with his easy grin.

“She’ll be _back soon. Sugar_. Probably got stuck talking on the phone _to that guy_ she’s seeing…” He told her. Sid’s brows lifted in surprise.

“She’s _seeing someone?_ I didn’t know that… _She never said_.” Sid expounds.

 _“Yeah_. She started talking about him the other night at The Pony. I think it _was after_ you left… “ He enlightens.

“Let’s hope _this one_ doesn’t break _our girls_ heart like last time…” Sid smiles genially as she, smiles, and turns back to the gallery to look across the crowds and the art once more. Poe gritted his teeth and nodded. _But his smile was long since gone…_

Sid spotted someone familiar in the crowd, and subsequently nudged Poe in the ribs.

“Job for you, Dameron. Katie Eden from the Brooklyn Eagle. She is _superbly partial to you_. _Now go_ and be your _delightful_ pain-in-the-ass-self, and make Rêverie sound like _the phenomenal place_ it is…” Sid smiles nicely across to him. One hand on her hip. The other on the banister in front of them.

Poe side eyes her with a somewhat annoyed smile. He grits his teeth, swerving his jaw together. She grins back. He sighs and slowly inches away to deal with the journalist who was _the only_ woman on earth who was _Poe-Charm-Resistant_. She watched him begin to trudge away down the stairs, his posture slumped and un-ecstatic to say _the least._

“You’re _a devil woman.”_ Poe seethed as he walked away.

 _“Oh, now_.” She smiles. Enjoying herself far too much. Judging by the smirk on her lips. As they strode side by side down the stairs. Poe broke away from her at the bottom, sending her a _withering glare_. _She swears she hears the man growl as she patted his back and shoved him in Katies direction, calling him a champ…_

She decided to walk the circuit, and mingle. She let herself become immersed in the music, the crowd. She even passes by the caterer to enquire if everything’s running smoothly, and finds herself walking away with a glass of champagne having been urged into her hands. _She relents_ , sipping it gently as she walked. _She loved this_. Circulating the crowd, an _unseen face_ observing how the art was responded to. She tilts her head with a smile, watching people mingling, enjoying the food, chatting. Friends gaggled over tables, smiling and talking in the lowlight. The flickering candles on each table lighting up genial faces. She drinks the fizz quickly, and the tang of it _burns_ her stomach when it slides, fruity and fizzy, down her throat. _She hadn’t eaten anything in a while, and her warming blood was letting her know it._ Champagne always did go straight to her head…

With the bubbles making her lightheadedly tipsy, she places her glass down on an empty tray, and vows that was her drink intake _done with_ for the evening. And she also pledges to herself that she’ll go off in search of some food to nibble at in a while…

She makes her way around near to the front of the gallery, and is enjoying the piece of artwork in the corner. Admiring Gilmar’s subtle use of tone and expert mark making. Both hands on her waist as she tilted her head and studied the painting for a long moment. Someone putting their hand over hers on her waist made her almost fly out her skin. She spooks, her heart pounding as she turned to see Emilio beaming at her. She placed a steadying hand on her chest to quell her breathing.

 _“Christ_ \- Emilio…” She sighs. Her towering friend now had her pressed into his side. She’d feel uncomfortable were it a hot blooded man doing this to her. But seeings as this was her friend who once _broke all of his right hand_ on the face of someone sleazy who’d dared to squeeze her ass and feel up her skirt, without consent, on the dancefloor of a nightclub, _she knew_ she was in safe hands.

“Who _the fuck_ is _that?”_  He urges.

She frowns.

“I’m _sorry?”_   She seeks.

 _“Tall, Huggee,_ dark, muscular, drink of water in the corner. I thought we stuck to the guest list, _bubbi? Only I would have remembered if I’d seen him before. My, oh, my.”_ Emilio winks saucily. Biting his lip as he tilts his head to the opposite corner, through the bustling crowds.

She turns and glances in the direction he gestured in. All she could see was the black formal crowd shuffling around the gallery. She saw clientele, a few people she recognised from the press, gallery regulars. _But no one she recognised as of yet…_

Sid shook her head.

“Well. _Go get em’_ tiger…” She smiles, patting his lapel. He squeezes a roll of red sticky dots, or _‘selling stickers’_ into her hand, bites his lip, grins that _adorable_ grin, and just as soon as he materialised, he is _off_. _Lock up your sons and daughters, she thinks._ She chuckles as he zips quickly away. At this point she wondered if she wasn’t running an Art Gallery, but an _extremely reliable_ dating service, with a bit of art and culture _thrown in_ for good measure…

She strides away. She’d left her phone in her office, _no clue_ as to what time it was now. She’d been down here circulating for _a good long_ while. _Still no Hux_. He had promised to come. But she also knew that pledge would _doubtless_ end in _tatters_ … _as usual_. She sighs, stepping around a fantastic light sculpture. Someone laughing loudly to her right made her turn and seek after the direction it came from. When she scanned her head around, her eyes caught on an - _unfortunately_ – familiar, hulking body of a man, stood not several metres away through the maze of sculptures. Her heart threw up in her chest. Or that’s what it felt like doing…

 _Kylo_.

His huge form was swathed in a navy dress shirt, leather jacket and dark trousers and those heavy, _clunky_ boots he seemed to favour. Those silver rings once again on his fingers, glinting in the half light. His hair still a carefree, inky mess. Which went well with the tattoos up for show on his neck.

The _suave bastard_ had the _gall_ to take his _sweet time,_ scanning her up and down with his dark eyes. _Devouring her as he had done when she was naked the other night in his office…_

 _He smirked_ , and raised his eyeline to her face, leering wider when he saw her stood, frozen. _Gaping_ at the sight of him. _Why was he here?_ _What motive caused him to be here?_ Panic and dread started to seep cold, horrible and sickening, into her bones. She watched the man raise a glass in a toast to her through the crowds. _And he winked_ …

People passing in front of her, blocked him momentarily from her sight, and when she manoeuvred around them, trying to seek him out, _he’d gone_.

She blinked. Staring at the spot where he’d been. Half wondering if he wasn’t a _mirage_. She shakes her head. She wasn’t that drunk. But maybe she’d spent so long trying to ignore thoughts of him the past couple of days, she’d conjured him out of thin air. _Never mind that she was still fuming that he’d had the nerve to send her lingerie and a dress, like she was his fuckbuddy or something…_

Maybe _she would_ _be needing that_ _second glass after all…_

She turns about, going back on herself, heading to the refreshment table, when a sight near the front door lifts her heart a little. _(Ok, a lot)_ She blinks a smile and weaves her way to the doors, moving closer to the person who just stepped in from the cold night air. Dressed in his favourite black suit, no tie, his favourite Prada shoes, and his white button shirt undone a little on that pale chest. His cheeks were wind kissed, pink, from the night air.

“ _How late_ are you?” Sid smiles across at Hux. Folding her arms across herself. “You’re lucky I don’t have a watch on me, to _truly_ to be a _shrewish_ wife.” She yields.

He shuts the huge slab of the glass door after him with a smile, tucking his phone back in his pocket. Smoothing his tousled and overmussed red hair back on his head.

“ _Sorry_ , Sweetpea. Phasma can be _a hellion_ when she gets into it…” He smiles. He walks close, links a hand around the back of her waist and hugs her close into his body. He presses his lips to hers and offers her a quick, chaste kiss. _He never was a one for huge public displays of affection…_

But he smelled of _his_ aftershave, _his_ shampoo and something else _sweet,_ perfumed, that she couldn’t place. His breath was hot and sensuously scented of whisky. Where he had been out in the cold, his mouth _tingled_ deliciously against the warmth of her own.

“I need _a drink._ I’ve had _a hell_ of a day…” He whines when they pull apart. She strokes his shoulder, and he fondly caresses her waist with his hand. His thumb stroking the fabric of her dress. She places the pad of her thumb under his eye, stroking the somewhat prominent dark circle that sat there.

“You do look _exhausted_. What are they _doing to you_ up there in wall street?” She sighs in good nature. Knowing full well half his being run ragged was because he had an insanely strict work ethic.

“Well. I’m not _a kept man_ without use just because _my wife_ earns more a year than _I_ do.” He smiles. She blinks, a little taken aback by the _cutting_ undertone of his comment. She crinkles her brow in that adorable way she does, and he closes his eyes and sighs.

“I _didn’t_ mean it… _like that.”_ He tells her. She shrinks back nonetheless, and nods gently.

“It’s just been a…” He begins. Trailing off.

“ _I know._ I know. _A long day_. We all have them…” She swallows. Plastering a smile on. Before she pats his shoulder. Nervously she averts her eyes and takes her hands off him. Fiddling with the red stickers in her hands.

“ _Go_ fetch a stiff one, grab some food, and have a mingle. I’ll come find you in _a bit_ …” She tells him. He squeezes her waist with both hands, smiles tiredly at her, before he kisses her cheek and steps around her, off into the crowds. Swallowed up into the busy room. She watches his back as he leaves.

She’d known he might have felt inferior that she was the high earner in their marriage, _but that was the first time he’d been almost catty about it_. She never gave him any indication that she minded the roles being reversed. But, _he was_ a traditionalist. And he was strict with himself. She came from, rich, _actually from very rich, stock_ , and earnt a _very healthy_ wage. Hux still made a good chunk of income, but it was significantly smaller than hers. She doubled her profits with good investment and steady work. But he sometimes was left hurting, _financially,_ by the callous nature of loosing stocks and having a bad share day.

_She hopes that was all she can chalk his snippiness up to, a bad day at the office…_

“ _Well, well._ Trouble in _Paradise, Doll?”_ Came a sinful leering voice from behind her. _Trust Ren to attack when his preys back was turned._

She could scent him as he drew close. _There was that expensive cologne again. Except this time, it was much more entwined with leather and a deeper tone of metal and motor oil._

She turned over her shoulder to see the human form of devastation stood casually behind her. Her mouth went dry and the champagne from earlier felt like it _was boiling_ in her stomach. Fizzing up with the nervousness she found from him being here.

“What _the hell_ are you here, _for?”_   She asks him in a clipped tone.

“The _art_..” He smiles. Letting his eyes slide to those hips that he’s _sorely missed._

 _“Oh, please_ , spare me…” She scoffs. Trying to get him to stop flirting with her like she was up for grabs. _She most certainly was not…_

“You know next to nothing about _me, baby_. I could happen to be the world’s _biggest_ enthusiast of urban, Brazilian inspired street art.”

Sid raises a brow.

“Like you’d be here on the _off-chance_ to buy a $25,000 dollar painting? Or sculpture?” She interrogates. Crossing her arms over her chest.

When that action forces her cleavage to push up on her chest. _He has to take a deep breath, and remind himself what it felt like to suck and kiss those beautiful tits… even better if they were bouncing in his face as he split that pretty pussy open with his cock_. And that thought didn’t help along the semi he had twitching in his trousers from _the glimpse_ he caught of her earlier.

“I think you’ll find, I’ve bought _three.”_ He smirks down at her, stepping closer and closer.

She swallows. Almost gulping when he stood calmly by her side to admire the big canvas behind her. Once again she is reminded of his _towering, broad_ size when he is _so close_ , she can _count_ the beauty marks on his face. Luckily, this part of the gallery was closed off from the view of the catering table… _If Hux saw her now…_

She is ashamed of how _she jumps_ when his hand reaches over to stroke hers, peeling one sticker slowly from the roll, his knuckles brushing over hers as he stared her down intensely with those big, amber eyes. She dropped her gaze, watching their hands almost meet, _brushing, sending shivers_ of electricity to shoot through her body. Igniting her nipples to stiffen and her cheeks to flush. _Hell, he even made her flush down her neck to her chest_. He leans even closer into her, so their fronts _touch,_ her breasts rubbing against his chest, and when he breathes she _can feel_ his ribs expand _outwards_ to brush into her. _The heat of him was damned intoxicating_. _She felt drunk on it._

She tilts her neck up as one hand of his skims by her shoulder, pressing the sticker to the unmarked description of the painting beside her. He leaves his hand there. Leaning into the wall. Caging her in, watching those pretty eyes roll up to meet his own. When he speaks his breath rolls over her face, and she can smell peppermint on his breath.

“I’ll take _this one too_.” He whispers in a hot voice to her. _They both knew he wasn’t even talking about the painting…_

“That one is $3200…” She swallows, her voice _a rasp_ of its former self. He smirks and leans closer to her.

 _“It’s a steal_ if It means I get to _see you_ again. _Doll._ ” He flirts against her neck.

“Kylo.” She tries to warn him. She screws her eyes shut.

“Did you _like_ my gift?” He suddenly asks with a smirk.

_She remembers her rage at that point. So clouded by his presence, his lust, his scent, she’d briefly forgotten…_

“What did you think you were _doing,_ sending that to _my home_?” She demands. Her voice lethally angry.

“You didn’t like it?” He seeks.

“That is not my point you _obstinate…ass_.” She growled out inelegantly.

He smirks, and then he _shrugs, casually._

“Not my fault I _couldn’t stop_ thinking about you. In fact that’s entirely _on you, Baby_.” He tells her naughtily. Bringing one hand up to skim a finger down her neck, landing a _light touch_ on her collarbone. _It was still enough to send her ricocheting into shivers._

“You’re the one who came to me. The one who _fell in my lap_ , as it were, making that deal for your husband…” He tells her.

“And _you’re the one_ who assured me you’d assuage my fears that Hux would _never know…”_ She bites back.

 _“_ He won’t.” Kylo assures her, once again.

“ _So_. You shouldn’t be stood _so close_ to me like this, when my husband is _not ten feet_ away.” She hisses.

“You’re _irresistible.”_   Kylo offers as a boyish excuse. He watches those mattes red lips part in a gape.

“…And you’re under my skin, and _I’m into_ you.” He adds. He chuckles softly after that. “ _God, help me_. I’m _into you_ so _badly_.”

“You don’t _know anything_ about me.” She echoes his oft repeated words, back to him.

“I plan to _change_ that.” He informs her. She chuckles. Unable to believe him.

“You can pluck the stars from the sky and pull the moon in with a lasso _, sunshine_ , But I am _still married_. And _I will not_ be _unfaithful_ to my husband again.” She tells him.

 _“Boss?”_ Comes an interjection from beside her.

Her and Kylo turn their looks sharply to her right, he was still caging her into the wall, practically _covering her_ body with his own.

Poe was stood some space away, his eyes switching between the two. _Trying to decide just what to make of this..._

~

 

 


	5. Pleasurable Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All's fair in flirting and sex. well, to Kylo it is. Oh yeah. And I’m putting the *other two* in this aswell. I’m talking some major Solo Triplet Thirst. (Coming soon...) And here they say goodbye. Unbeknown to the both of them. Their paths soon cross, with hurtful consequences...

 

 

 

Sid’s red lips gaped open, her cheeks blaring with rosy red heat as she realised her, _and her biggest new source of aggravation,_ had been caught.

She placed her palms flat to the immovable, _god-like_ , chest in front of her and tries to leverage some space between them.

 _Needless to say_ _It was no use._

 _The man didn’t even budge._ Kylo looks down at her hands on his pecs, feeling the heat of her through his thin shirt, and then peered back up at her, and arched a very wry, _amused_ looking brow _. She just knew inside that big head he was leering ‘you think you can try and move me, doll? Cute.’_

When the shoving doesn’t work, she sidesteps out from under the colossal man’s shadow and walks nearer to her bewildered colleague.

“Did you-uh _need me,_ Poe?” Sid asks. Her voice shaky as she steps away.

She feels Ren’s big paw-like hands slide off her as she distanced herself. She watches Poe’s eyes flicker across to Kylo. Trying to decipher if she was under threat from him or not. He’s pretty sure the man is twice his size, height and strength, so they were unequally matched for fisticuffs, but any fears of her being accosted undesirably were laid to rest by the fact she was _blushing bright pink_ and stumbling over her own words.

_She liked this guy._

“Not if you’re... _busy_.” Poe seeks. Meeting her eyes and raising his brows.

“I’m _not._ ” Sid manages to choke out _very quickly_. The lingering nearness of Kylo was making her sweat. _Goddamn the inflexible bastard. He smelled so good, and his proximity was starting to make her head swim._

Poe jerks one dark brow high up his forehead.

Kylo _revels_ in the fact he has her all _flustered_. He’d begun to fear their, _fling,_ had been a one sided fall for him. _But then he remembers, her_. _The sounds she made, all those little whimpers and moans_. _Fuck, if they weren’t the hottest, sweetest noises he’s ever heard a woman make_. He couldn’t put aside the way she grabbed onto him and clung on for _dear life_. How he had _felt her_ kiss him _back._ She wasn’t shutting her eyes and blocking him out, _she drew him in_ and looked _deep_ into his amber eyes every chance she got.

“Do you _two know_ each other?” Poe asks.

Sid answers a very sharp “Not really.” At the same time as Kylo purring a “ _Yes._ ” through a very handsome grin. Poe watched his boss wipe her clammy hands on the sides of her dress.

 _“Mr. Ren_ , has bought three..”

 _“Four_.” Kylo interjects, smiling handsomely to Poe. By this point Sid wants to shrivel up into a little ball. And she also needs alcohol. _And she wants to kiss his stupid lips quiet… but no one but her need know about that inclination…_

“ _Four,_ of Gilmar’s paintings.” Sid smiles, rubbing her hands together.

 “Could you talk to our… _client,_ for a second whilst I fetch the sellers book from my office.”  She asks Poe. 

_Who smiles across at his boss like a demon…_

“Actually, _I was just_ on my way to talk to Matthew, from Times Union who just stepped in wanting a few words with Gilmar. I was just _checking up_ on you…” Poe grins.

Sid grits her jaw and tilts her head across at him. _Glaring daggers_ at him. She smiles and steps closer, and hisses to her nefarious colleague through clenched teeth.

“ _What-is-this-face_ - _telling-you?”_ She asks irately to a very smug Poe who’d begun to think himself cupid all of a sudden.

“I’ve _no clue_.” Poe insists. _Not the least bit scared_. “Maybe Mr. Ren can _get you_ two _a drink…_ ” Poe winks.

Before she can snatch him close to berate him _and_ swerve her heel down on his foot in revenge. He darts away with a suave “ _Chao._ ”

She grits her teeth and turns back around to face Kylo.

“I may have to _fire him_ tomorrow.” She growls to herself.

“I’d give the _man a raise_ …” Kylo sneers.

“I don’t suppose there’s _much point_ of my telling you to _wait here_ for me…” She asks him, diverting the conversation elsewhere.

“ _None._ ” Kylo leers. Sid wets her lips and rolls her eyes. She sighs and puts on a meek smile.

“With _me_ …” She gruffs. Defeated.

Turning on her heel and sashaying off through the crowds. Weaving through slowly.

He bit his lip with a smirk, watching her hips sway when she walked. _He loved that about her_. That tight pencil dress doing her figure _so many damn_ _favours._

She can feel him follow her closely, hands loosely swinging by her sides. His go behind his back as he idly inspects the sculptures they pass by. Beautiful bronzes, sculpted to form a metamorphosis of man and buildings moulded together. She turns and watches Kylo’s eyes rake over the sculpture as they passed it by. He stayed for a moment, infatuated by the sight as he examined it. Sid stopped in her tracks, and watched him concentrate on the art. She eyes him _curiously_ for a second… It wasn’t easy to miss him. He stood _so great_ and _hulking_ among the crowds. Being six foot four _was handy like that…_

One soft curl of inky black tipped forwards on his forehead, she found _, oddly,_ she fought her reflexes to tuck it back behind his ear. His eyes changed shade under the severity of the spotlights above. Instead of their usual brown, she could see specs of honey gold, and amber around his Iris’s. His plush lips were resting in a soft line, and she lets her eyes track up over his mouth, and that dark scruff and goatee she can remember _feeling_ in their kiss. Scratchy and rough in situ with those _soft lips_. She finds herself then allowing her eyes to wander across the dark beauty marks scattered across his skin. Slipping up the high planes of his cheekbones, further studying his handsome face. Her eyes are also drawn to the red and black tattoos on his neck. She didn’t get a close enough look the other night, but from a distance, she could see some form of big cat _stretched, linking_ around his neck and down his back. She could see paws, claws, and other dark patterns swirled with the stark black and vivid red. So vivid It looked like _blood_. She knew some tattoos faded after a time, but his looked still _so intense._

_Then again. He was an intense kind of man. It adds up that such an extreme guy, would have such a hardcore tattoo inked on his skin._

_As she observed him, It was the same thought in her head as she’d thought the first night she met him. He truly was a beautiful man. And her brain spat out something about books, judgement and covers…_

She worked it out from the second she saw him that this man was the human equivalent of a solar eclipse. He blocked _everything else out_ from her senses. Once he was in front of her. He was all she could focus on. _Like drowning, she thinks_. He was as unavoidable as dark antimatter. That _was why_ she had stumbled to her _incorrect_ conclusion about him being a _fly-by-night, ephemeral_ kind of lover. The guy who was _more_ of a rolling stone with the ladies than Mick Jagger. His little black book filled a mile long with the names of his conquests. _She was having a hard time escaping him_ , as was no doubt his intention. _He wouldn’t go quietly_. It was tragic of her that now a good portion of her thoughts surrendered to idle fancies about him. She tried telling herself she was being idiotic, but it was a losing battle when she surveyed him once more.

She steps back toward him, lingering by his side as he studies Gilmar’s sculpture. In the harsh severity of the light above, the light coming from above cast some beautiful shadows below the work, adding to its abstruse appeal. The name tag with the sculpture read just “ _0-23_ ” Gilmar had told her he wanted people each to have their own formations, and take away their own interpretations of this piece. She wets her lips and smiles as she clasps her hands together in front of her.

“Gilmar took his inspiration for this piece from a very famous British artist, Antony Gormley. Gilmar was _fascinated_  by the way Gormley explores the relation to _man_ and _space_. Particularly paying attention to the space we occupy _within_ and _without_ our bodies.” She explains, she then gestures to the crouched, almost foetal position of the main figure of the piece. Bundled out of mesh and wire. “This _particularly_ relates to the sense of isolation and loneliness he found in first moving to New York. How _he felt,_ impersonal and inconsequential in the face of unfamiliar surroundings. How _he…_ ” She sighs. Those feelings all too similar to her own that she felt swallowed up by when she left France to move here for Hux.

Kylo tilts his head to look across at her.

“...How he felt that New York could be a _very loveless place_ to be when you’re _alone._ ” She finishes. Masking her pain with a broad smile.

“Was there something _personal_ in that _, Doll?”_ He asks softly. Of course, he wasn’t stupid. He heard her voice quiver.

She met his intense eyeline, and she blushed. _She flushed red hot from her cheeks to the tips of her ears like a silly, giggling schoolgirl._

“I uh-…” She sighs as she broke away from his spine-wracking gaze, and turning towards the direction of the stairs. He steps to follow, slowly coming to her side.

“I moved away from my home, to New York for my husband. I _can empathise_ how it feels to be _new, and lonely_ , in a strange city.” She tells him as they begin the trek up the stairs.

“Where’s home, Baby?” He asks her kindly, dodging past people as they spoke. Trying to fix his eyes on the back of her neck, _and not that gorgeous ass as it shimmied up a couple of steps ahead of him._

“Paris.” She smiles. She turns and watches his eyebrows raise. He seemed surprised by that comment.   _He can’t deny that turned him on a little. He’s not quite sure how._

“Were you born in France, _Madame Hux_..” He grins cheekily.

“ _No_ , England. But I grew up in France.” She tells.

 “How do your parents feel about you moving way away out here?” He asks.

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t _have any of them_.” She off hand’s casually.

He tilted his head. Feeling sad for her. When he thought about his life without his parents and his brothers, it makes him feel, _well, empty._ But, having said that, he wouldn’t _weep too mightily_ if Ben- _annoying-as-hell_ -Solo fell off the face off this earth tomorrow.

 _So, her only family in this whole world, was half a world away. And Hux was her main source of comfort. No wonder she’d felt lonely_ … He felt angry about that. It puffed up in his chest and made his lungs feel big. _The fact this beautiful woman had moved across the globe for a husband like Hux._

 “What I _do have_ is a thoroughly, _eccentrically_ rich, French, grandmother, who couriers me Dior and French champagne from time to time.” She tells him. They come to the top of the stairs and she waits for him at the top.

“She sounds like _a pill_.” He explains as they come to the top. He doesn’t complete all the steps right away. He stays on the stairs peering up at her, one big hand holding the banister.

“You’ve met _her personally, then?”_ She asks with a sarcastic grin.

 _He smiles_. A pure, warm, amused smile. _Her knees tremble._

“You know what I still can’t _wrap_ my head around…” He tells her as he slowly creeps up to be nearer her. His smile still a lusting grin.

“What would _that be?”_ She asks, feeling like she was engaging dangerously with the devil once again. He is in front of her now, his _cologne alluring_. _His heat searing_. _She has to take a deep breath and remind herself they were in public._

“How I _haven’t kissed_ you yet.” He speaks lowly as he places one hand to slither further along the banister, edging closer to her body.

 _“Tyre pas trop sur la corde_." She rattles off in sharp French. A warning centred in those deep blue eyes. Which only makes him _grin_ all the more…

“Was that a very long winded way of saying; _‘Yes, Kylo, I want you so bad, too?_.’” He asks. Full well knowing her answer was most likely not in accordance with his flirting. They are closer again, _close enough_ that he can smell her delicious perfume rolling off her persons. He can count _every long_ eyelash around those beautiful eyes. _And he just adores the sight of her blushed cheeks._

“I said, ‘ _don’t push your luck’_ ” Sid warns.

“If I didn’t _push_ my luck with you, Doll, I might not get a chance to be _so near_ you.” He explains. Which made perfect sense. _He was pursuing her_. Question was; when did she stop rejecting his advances?

“You _don’t_ suffer from a lack of surety, or confidence, do you?” She speaks with a smile, crossing her arms. _He swore to god he’d do something about her looking so damn good soon. Every time she crossed her arms those gorgeous tits spilled slightly up and out the neck of her dress. And every time she did, it made his cock twitch in his trousers._

“ _You’ve_ slept with me. _Baby._ What do _you think?”_ He flirts back. She peers around, worried someone would have overheard his _bold exclamation_.

She purses her lips in a smile. He had _every reason_ to be arrogant with the weight of the, _instrument,_ he was packing between his thighs. _Arrogance could be toxic and sickening on some men. So why was the overinflated ego of this tall, tattooed, stubborn one, serving to make her blush quite so much?_

She _refuses_ to answer _that._ “Do you know _what I_ think. _Ren?”_ Sid tells him. Eyes fixed solidly on him. As he was still on the stairs, this was the one time their heights were equalised.

_His heart was singing that he’d managed to coax some flirt out of this beauty…_

“I think a man with an ego _already_ the size _of the titanic_ doesn’t _need me_ to tell him what _I think_.” She beams, before she steps away and breaks this sordid little, seducing, trance they were _stuck in._ He watches her step away, his smile quirking up to show a brilliant white smile as he laughed after her.

_Oh, this woman…. As formidable as she was curvy…_

He bounds up the remaining steps and stalks quickly after her. She led him past the velvet rope marking off the staff only area. And then down long corridor, and into a small, narrow little office. He enters after her and shuts the door. Watching her sidle behind her desk and bend over to reach a low drawer. _He doesn’t watch her. He knows if he does, he’d be tempted to slam her into the nearest wall and reunite himself with that glorious naked body once again._ He _instead,_ studies her office. He shoves his hands in his pockets and examines plainly the personal, _Parisienne,_ touches of colour and warmth in the otherwise stark white office.

He steps closer to the wall to gaze at the art deco Paris poster enshrined in its frame. Other personal effects too, he could see. An oil diffuser that made the air in this small space smell like clementine and winter spices. The two, grey King Louis style chairs opposite her desk. The cream burlap and linen, distressed and antique settee adorned with various richly embroidered, colourful cushions, and a wool throw folded neatly over one end. The soft blue rug, worn, trampled under his huge feet softened this stark space with colour. He could imagine her, here. Sat, stretched out on the settee of an evening, having kicked off her heels, and folding her legs under that throw. Artist books sloped in her lap as she pawed through them. Her space was _her._ _Full of colour, soft warmth and fragrance_.

When he turned back around, the sight of her punched him right in the gut like a fierce right hook _. She had glasses on now… Instead of looking like a vixen in that dress, she now looked like a naughty librarian in a classy porno flick._

She held a book in her hands and was walking back around the desk as she flicked to an empty page. She came to the front of her desk where he stood, and opened the book before him, and handed him a pen.

“Name, address. Contact details. And your _hefty_ portfolio of recently acquired art shall be couriered to you by the end of this week after the exhibit closes.” She smiles, he gently takes the Mont Blanc pen from her, and it looks _too comical_ in his _big_ hands.

“Rêverie _thanks you_ for your custom, _Mr. Ren_.” She smiles. He hunches low over her desk and scrawls his scratched writing onto the ledgers pace. Standing and leaning one hand on the desk as she faces him.

“How much commission am I paying to it’s _lovely Boss_?” He asks as he writes. His eyes flickering up to centre in hers. She found those warming brown depths were seeking at her, gentle and kind.

“40%.” Sid tells him.

“You’ll take 60% from me.” He tells her.

 _“Kylo_ …” She begins to admonish.

“ _It’s not_ a negotiation, Doll..” He asserts as he hands her back the pen. She takes it gingerly.

“ _Thankyou._ ” She accepts kindly. After a second of them just staring at each other. _Unable_ to help herself, she steps close. Places one hand on his chest, and leans up on her tiptoes to press _a soft kiss_ to his cheek. Her hand feeling the warmth of his solid pec through his shirt as she touched him. Leaning herself against him as she leaned in. _He was as solid and as immovable as she’d remembered_.

His chest tightened when he felt her touch him. And when he felt her lips press gently onto his cheekbone. _His entire body seized with want_. Her perfume tantalising his senses, a wisp of her hair tickling his jaw as she came close. When she pulled back, he looked down at her seriously. The air between sparking with heat. A _rush_ of electricity making the air between them hazy and sensuous.

His big hand slid up and cupped her hip. He slowly reeled her close until their bodies were one. Pressed down on each other.

“Now, that’s _no way_ to say goodbye, Doll…” He tells her in a hush. His voice so deep and lustful. It makes her _clench_.

_He shows her the meaning of the word ‘kiss…’_

His hand cups the back of her neck, and he slowly inches closer until their lips touch. His free hand sinking down to rest on her ass, both caressing and pinning her in place against his frame. She feels his scruffy tache scrape her lips as he gives her a kiss that made her toes curl up in her shoes, and pulls an absolutely desperate noise of yearning leaves her in a sigh. _Call a spade a spade, it was a whimper. And it sounded as eager as could be_. As she feels a _manly grumble_ resound through his chest like thunder. He was drinking her in _, frenziedly_. Cupping her close and losing himself in her lips and the softness of her body. They took and took of each other. Every whisper and every moan. It was hungry, hot and urgent.

Her thighs _tremble_ as he squeezes her close, _needing her nearer,_ and she folds her arms across his neck, leaning her torso completely into his as their shared kiss took both _their breath away_. Her hands reach up the nape of his neck and sink into that rakish array of dark curls _one last time_. It’s _so intense_ and _powerfu_ l, she almost feels ready to let tears leak out her eyes. She grew giddy off the taste of him. Peppermint heat, cool, and bursting across his tongue as he caressed her lower lip with it.

_This is not for Hux. She finally admits. This is for me, and me alone._

_He was growing hard, she was growing wet. But they both knew, it was unspoken, but it was there, that this was all that could happen, here, tonight._

When they break away from the scorching kiss, keen sounds leave _the both_ of them, and he cups her face , drinking her in one last time. _She does the same_. Taking in _this intensely beautiful, powerful man_ with her last chance. He skims his thumbs over both her hot cheeks. When he speaks, the _sheer yearning_ and huskiness of his voice makes her astoundingly attracted to him.

“Now, _that,_ is _one hell_ of a goodbye kiss, _baby.”_ He pants onto her lips.

“ _Goodbye_ …” She sighs, blinking. Almost sounding like a question, or a statement. He follows the shape of a curl of her hair as he tucks it back behind her ear. Waves of his gorgeous scent tantalised her still. _Thank god he was holding her up, because if not, she’d be a mushy puddle on the floor._

“You don’t _need me_ hanging around, _bab_ y. As much as I’d _adore_ too.” He leers. “You fulfilled _your end_ of our bargain. It’s time I stopped being _an ass, and met mine_.” He explains.

 _“Hux can’t know_.” She repeats, reaffirming it. _As she had made him pledge on the night they met._

Kylo nods. _Regrettably._

 _“Fuck me_ , I’m gonna _miss fucking you_ , though.” He informs her gently with a beaming smile.

“You must be devastated. Whoever will you send _lingerie_ to _now?”_ She sarcs. Raising one wry brow. He smirks.

“ _There she is_.” He bites back. Winking sexily at her.

“I’ll leave you in peace. Cause I can see _you love_ that husband of yours. Despite how you’re going through a _rough_ patch. I can only say I _sure as hell_ hope you two get through this. _Because…_ ” One hand grips her neck. Cupping almost all of it in one hand. He trails off.

“… You’re quite, _lovely._ Sidney Hux.” He states simply.

“I hope Armitage knows what _a lucky bastard_ he is.” He tells. _She was speechless._

_In her heart, so does she, because she didn’t realise how lonely and unappreciated she was now Kylo had come along._

One hand of his slips from her, and reaches to the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He pulls out a _very familiar_ looking business card. _Ironically the little thing that started this whole endeavour._ And he tucks it in the ledger pages, next to the _many thousands_ of dollars’ worth of art he’d bought tonight.

She feels like she’s choking up as he kisses the back of her hand. And then begins towards the door.

“Come stop by the club and _see me_ sometime. You know where to find me. VIP guaranteed. Drinks _on the house_.” He smirks as he opens her office door.

She nods, idly rubbing her neck. Swallowing down an odd burst of sadness in her chest. _She’s amazed to find that she’ll miss him… him and his intoxicating, overwhelming presence…_

“ _Goodbye._ Kylo.” She mutters as he opens the door and steps through.

“ _Pleasure_ doing business with you.” He flirts.

She closes her eyes and smiles, laughing. And when she opened them. He was _gone_. _Smoke and mirrors, that one, she thinks._

 

~

 

She steps back out onto the upper gallery floor after taking a moment to compose herself. Checking the mirror in her bathroom for smudged lipstick and dark mascara tracks down over her cheeks. She reapplies a smudge of red and puts her brave face on. She found the card that Kylo tucked in the ledger had his personal number on it, the digits scrawled there, left with a simple note;

_‘If you should ever need me, Doll.’_

 As she steps back out into the gallery, she is amazed to find it was still a hive of activity. The later the night went on, the quieter it seemed to get. Tonight was the reverse. It seemed to be getting busier.

She was glad to see her Gallery was a bustling, busy part of New York night life. She surveys it all for a second. As earlier, watching people laugh and admire the art. Drinks flowed, and food was enjoyed. She felt, ever so slightly, deflated.

A roaring sound in the street out front garners her attention, and she watches, as from the side alley running to the right of the gallery, a sleek, black shape of a motorcycle and a certain, _hulking,_ rider clad in black. Burst noisily onto the road, and roars away, weaving past the rush hour traffic. She smiles an innocent sigh to herself.

“Why _the face, Sugar?_ ” Comes an interjection from her _soon-to-be-fired_ colleague. Poe chirps as he draws up to her side.

“No reason. Just _an, odd,_ day..” She explains.

“Who was your _… Urrr.”_ He trails off.

She sighs a smile and daggers a _gentle_ look of warning across to him.

“He was _just a buyer_ , Poe.”

 _“Honey...”_ Poe interjects, raising his brows. She blushes.

“The man _was looking at ya_ like you were a porterhouse _steak dinner_.” He tells her seriously.

“That’s _his_ prerogative, _not mine_.” Sid holds out firmly.

“He looked like he was _thoroughly_ interested in _your prerogatives_ …” He teases.

“How would you like to _be unemployed?”_ Sid tests.

“Me- _ow_.” Poe purrs.

“ _Poe_.” She starts lowly.

“All I’m saying. Sugar-Pie. _He, uh_ , he looked _really, into_ you.” Poe disclosed. “And I _don’t blame_ you. The odd flirt here and there in a marriage does _no harm_ …”

“How would _you know_ , Mr. perpetual _bachelor?”_ She asks with a laugh.

 _“Baby,_ I’m calling what I saw. You looked very, _taken…_ I may be _way off_ here, but…” He supposed walking around her.

“…Someone looks like they had _a crush_.” He explains in a sing-song tone as he begins to saunter away.

“He _does not.”_ She held out. Cheeks thoroughly red.

“I wasn’t talkin’ _about him_.” Poe waggled his brows before disappearing into the crowd.

“I’d make a start _updating your resume_ , Dameron…” She growls after him, narrowing his eyes. Watching as he retreated to go flirt with that cute blonde waitress from earlier.

She watches over the gallery again after he leaves her. Her arms wrapped around herself. She caught sight of Hux, _and finally_ , a glimpse of Sabine. The two were gaggled around a sculpture, their body language open and friendly. They stood _close_ as they talked. Sabines sinuous body was on fine display in a metallic bronze dress, and strappy black heels encouraging her height. Her afro was fluffy and well groomed, and she put her hand on Hux’s forearm and laughs wildly at something he said before she tipped her champagne flute to her lips. She frowns lightly as she watched Hux smiling broadly at her oldest friend, and PA.

_After all, the odd flirt here and there in a marriage does no harm…_

 

 

_~_

 

 

Several days later. It was her quiet Friday night in. A glass of chilled white wine in her grasp, a scented candle filling her lounge with a jasmine scent, and her French chicken casserole simmering away in the oven. Millie was curled up on the blanket at her feet, purring. And she was lazily lounging, watching TV. Waiting home on Hux who was working late – _as usual._ Off tonight from daggering heels and sexy dresses. She lounged in yoga pants, and a cashmere blue jumper that hung teasingly off one shoulder. 

She was just starting to get dozy and hazily drunk, when her phone chirped to life with a text on the coffee table.

Millie sat up, _most perturbed,_ when her personal head-scratcher sat up and reached for her phone. She unlocked the screen and read a singular line of text from an unfamiliar number. But as soon as she read the _urgency_ in the words. The wine in her stomach started _to sour…_

_‘You need to come see me at the club._

_Now._

_-KR.’_

 

_~_

 

 

 


	6. Bad Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo is a dangerous person to upset. And how dare Hux hurts Sid like this. Aunt Josephine may be a pill, but she gives some sage advice.
> 
> And these are some simple translations for the few words of French in this chapter... 
> 
> Mon amour - My love  
> Vien ici! - Come here  
> Grand-Mère - Grandmother  
> Mon chou - My sweet/Sweetie  
> Oui. Je suis d’accord - Yes. I agree  
> Écoutez-moi! - Listen to me   
> imbécile - imbecile  
> Bisous - Kisses

 

 

 

Her stomach was tying itself in knots as she darted out of the pelting, cold rain, and into the side door of ‘ _Star Killer.’_ Where she went through the main doors last time, this time, her association with its owner granted her access via the VIP section. Steel steps up a long enclosed hallway, leading up the corridor directly to the second floor of the club. She peered up the steps ahead, shaking the rain off her coat, that clumped in droplets on her collar too. The dark brick walls above lit only by the red, dwarfed her figure as she clambered up the stairs.

She hadn’t spared the time to fix up her appearance. She merely slid on some strappy heels, and a duck egg blue coat, her sapphire coloured wool scarf, and she was out the door. Her phone fisted in her clammy hand. Her stomach twisting violently, like oil being wrung from a rag. She had _barely any_ makeup on, and her hair was twisted up and away from her head in a messy topknot. Her romantic evening dissipated as she puffed out the candles and made to head out. She rushed out of her building and hailed a cab. _And now, here_ she was. She was cold, shivering in her coat, her hands were numb, her feet were cold, and wet due to her immediate choice of – _stupid_ – footwear, and she desperately wanted to find out why he had wanted her here. _She felt sick._

_What could he want her for?_

Kylo’s lack _of endearment and flirting_ in his emergency text was _worrying her_ all the more.

She strode to the top, and gave the door guard her name, and she is inside in no time at all. The pumping, pounding music blares in her ears as she pushes through the door. A resounding echoing beat pulsating in the air and making her very _bones_ shiver. She pushes into the upper VIP area, the room full of mirrors and sofa’s, and tables crowded the space where people weren’t gaggled around talking and drinking. She soldiers on through the busy crowds, past men bedecked in suits and ladies dressed up to the nines. They all looked _so_ polished, _so pristine_. She could see the girls with their _coiffed_ hair, _five star_ make up, _flawless_ talons of nails on their fingers and _gorgeous_ skimpy dresses fitted like a second skin to some of their bodies. As she winds past, she gets a strong whiff of very sweet, rich perfume smacking her in the face like a brick wall. Their _perfect_ ensemble makes her feel more like _a mess_ than ever. _It also reminds her very realistically of her late(r) age…_

She weaves through groups, brushing off intoxicated ‘ _hello’s’_ and greetings that are slurred her way. She sees her familiar friend from last time, cigarette in-between his lips, as he chatted intimately with a small group of men all gaggled around one sofa. Wisps of grey smoke pluming from his lips as he spoke, gesturing with the cig held suavely between two fingers. She turns her eyes to the office door just ahead of her. She _doesn’t bother_ knocking, she twists the door handle and storms through.

Quite _a sight_ greeted her on the other side. He was alone, in his office, as usual. _But this wasn’t the Kylo Ren she knew. This man was shades different._

He was perched on his usual place, leaning on his desk. In the same getup as she’d come used to seeing him. Except tonight’s shirt was a _vivid blood red_. Undone almost to his sternum, and she catches sight of something that _wasn’t_ there before. A couple of necklaces sat against his broad clavicle. A military looking dog tag, and an upside down crucifix. The vivacity of his shirt contrasts heavily with his dark suit trousers and those staple, scuffed, biker boots he wore. The sleeves were rolled up on those thick forearms. Showing her his tribal tattoos. His hair is even more unkempt than usual. Shuffled and swirled in disarray on his head. _It looked as if he’d raked his fingers through his hair many a time…_

When he peers up at her, he does so slowly. And his face doesn’t try to mask his pain. There is _no flirty_ glint in his eye, _no crooked_ smile. No japes and no teasing. _His mood was stone silent. And dreadful_. His thumb rubbed intently on the side of the – _very full_ – glass of whisky as he held it against his thigh. He was smoking, and his mouth is _an unamused line_. She watches purple-grey curls of smoke rise from his lips as he drags the cigarette away. She bites her lower lip so that _it doesn’t wobble_. She turns behind her and shuts the door. The eerie silence of this room, _save for the club music_ , tells her they _may need_ to help themselves to some solitude for whatever there was to come.

She is still panting, dewy, from her mad trek here, halfway across town, when she comes to stand in the middle of the room. The joy of seeing him again warming her stomach lining, is overtaken by fear for his sombre mood. He swallows, looks up, and _sees her_.

_Really, sees her._

Her makeup had worn through the trial of her day. There _wasn’t much_ left of it covering her pale complexion now. That dark beauty spot by her cheek, that he’d noticed before, and how it let his eye to the corner of her lips that were _gorgeously rosy_ , bare, without any _killer red_ lipstick on them. He can see the bags under her eyes, and the apprehension plain as day on her face. Her hair was mussed and scruffy, and he just about holds onto his sanity with _how darling_ she looks simply in yoga pants and a _too big_ sweatshirt. _It hurts the black pit where his heart should be._

_He desires nothing more on earth right now, than to reach out, hold her close, feel her body entwine with his, and press his face squarely into the crook of her neck._

“ _Kylo?_ ” She asks him. Shaking her head, wearing a frown. Her brows knitted together. She doesn’t sound impatient. _Just bewildered…_

He stubs his cigarette out and sighs deeply. Expelling a huge gust of smoke from between his lips, and out his nose. She watches it curl away into the air. He then looks up at her and places his glass of whisky down by the side of his thigh.

“I _didn’t_ …” He cuts off, angry. Not at her. But at what he had to _tell, show, her_. He shuts his eyes and fights on through his words.

“I didn’t want it to be _this way._ Matter of fact, I didn’t want it _this way_ in _any scenario._ But I _respect you, Sid_. And I think you have a right to _the truth_ …” He explains cryptically. And then, looking her firmly in the eyes, he adds…

“No _matter how hurtful_.”

He reaches around behind him and gathers a pile of papers into his hands, he weighs them carefully. Before he stands and passes them over to her, as he steps closer. She takes them, and she can see they were bank statements. They were Hux’s bank statements. Her brief wonder of how he got them is totally eclipsed, and overshadowed, by _one name_ , she can see, sat at the bottom of the page.

A payment to _one Ms. Clèrisseau. Payment of $40,000. From A. Hux via KR enterprises_

The worst part, being that significant chunks of money transferred from Armitage to her, going back _three years._

_Three. Years._

She’d blamed it on his work, stress, the move. She even blamed it _on herself_ at times. She kept repeating to herself that this was simply a _rough patch_. And they’d get through it alright, _one day in the future_ when his work calmed down _. Only it never did._

She inhales a shuddering breath and wets her lips as tears fill her eyes and she presses the back of her shaky hand to her mouth. She looks _pleadingly_ up to him. _But she doesn’t know what she is pleading for…_

He meets her eyes.

“Booth 28.” He speaks clearly.

Her stomach lurches. She crosses to the window, the papers still viced in her hands. She stands, and she looks out into the dark club. And there, on the second balcony. Enclosed in a private booth. Is her husband, and her best friend. If the bank statements didn’t tell of the story of their relationship, then their _current position_ sure as _hell did_. _The sheer gossamer curtain didn’t hide much_. But she could make their figures out _well enough_ in the red and black light. Sabine was in Hux’s lap, her arms strung around his neck, and in his hair. His slid up her back, and _under_ her skirt as they _kissed vigorously_. There was a wine cooler of champagne on the table, but they were _ignoring that_. Lost instead in making love to each other. She watched Sabine push her husband back to the bench, tugging at his clothes, opening his jacket, as his hands explored her more roughly, hitching up her dress…

The papers slide from her fingers, and she lets herself cry as she clamps a hand across her face. Spinning around to look away. _She couldn’t_ ….Hot tears spilled over her hand. Dropping down her cheeks as the first sob left her.

Kylo steps closer.

“I’m _so_ sorry, Sid.” He speaks with an expression like a kicked puppy. One big hand strokes down her upper arm. Feeling the sogginess of her coat.

She chokes back her hysteria.

“Why _should you_ be sorry? I’m the one whose _an idiot_ …” She supplies. He shakes his head, his eyes hot and angry. Blazing.

 _“Doll_ …” He began, his eyes piercing hot. But she carries on…

“This isn’t _your fault_ , Kylo _, its mine_.” She cries meaningfully.

“I dismissed my worries _time and time again_. I excused him _over and over_ , for working late, or going to conferences…. Lunches, business trips _. I was too in love with him_ , and had _too much faith_ to think that _he’d_ …” She inhales sharply, gesturing her hand out the window to that booth. _She can’t say the words, but she can think them_.

_How could she love someone so much, so purely, whilst they were fucking someone else? More importantly, how could she have been so blinded to it?_

“I mean. _It’s textbook_ isn’t it…” She asks rhetorically with a bitter smile as she wipes away the worst of her tears.

He hates seeing her wounded like this.

“Successful, rich wife, does everything in her power to keep him happy. Moves across the world _for him_. _Helps him_ restart their life here. _But it’s not enough_. He feels emasculated, so he acts out, and he needs to reassert his masculinity by _fucking_ a French tween for _three years_.” She cries.

“My god, I’m _so pathetic_. _I knew_ something _was wrong with us_ , but I didn’t think things could be _this wrong…”_ She whines, wiping the back of her hand on her nose. Pressing her hand thereafter to her forehead as she lets sobs flow from her lips and more tears came.

Kylo _says nothing,_ because he doesn’t trust himself not to make her pain worse by letting loose the _various_ ways he wants to _break_ that mans nose. _Or arms. Or legs_. He says nothing as he reels her in and lets her sob against his chest. Feeling the warm weight of her sag against him. He can feel the weight of her sadness, her pain. She curls up against that _big_ body and just lets herself _be held_ for a moment. One hand cradles her head, the other wrapped around her back like _a crushing python grip_. He rests his chin on her head. _Barely restraining_ anger of his own when he feels her body _wrack_ as she weeps into him.

 _“How could I have been so stupid? How could I not have known? How could I never have seen it?”_ She babbles into his neck. Kylo bites his lower lip, squeezing his eyes shut to try and stem his own feelings. His chest puffing out in indignation. _And how he wanted to take her by the shoulders and tell her who was, really, the one at fault here_ … and for just a second he feels _simmering rage_ when he thinks of how _any one man_ can _do this_ to someone, _let alone her…_

She feels him lay a simple kiss into her damp hair. _She still smells like roses, he thinks_.

“It’s _not_ your fault, baby.” He tells her openly, his breath hot, ruffling her scented hair. She blinks more tears out of her vision. Feeling them drip onto his shirt, blossoming a dark patch onto the crisp, red, cotton blend she can feel under her numb fingertips. Infused with his body warmth and spicy drifts of his cologne.

“I need _to go_...” She steels out quietly against him. Her voice soft and calm. Certainly a whole lot calmer than she _felt_. Her vision was blurring and her head was spinning. She steps back, dismayed at the wet marks she left on his, _probably ludicrously expensive_ , shirt. She needed to be away from here, from Hux. From _her._

_Only, now it just occurs to her, she has nowhere to go._

She makes for the door.

 _“Doll._ ” Kylo says again, catching her hand as she walked away. His hand curled into hers. Her skin was _ice cold_ to the touch. _That makes his cavernous chest ache._

She lets herself hold his hand just for a moment. Feeling his large, warm fingers infuse her clammy skin with warmth. She then pulls slowly away, and averts her gaze. He wants to say something else, _but what can he say to her?_

“He shouldn’t have _done this_ to you. You _have_ to know that..” He gets out in a gruff voice. She stops in her tracks. But she doesn’t turn back to face him.

“He _already has_.” She offers weakly.

“He did this to me the _second_ he _chose her_ over me.” She explains.

“Then he is _a fool_.” Kylo assures.

“I bet he’s not the one who _feels foolish_ right now.” She offers. He is silent once more.

“Thank you for _the honesty_.” She cries in a small voice, turning to look at him with tears leaking from her eyes. Taking two trails of mascara with them. Down over her pale blotchy cheeks. She turns and opens the door.

Her brain is stuttering, stumbling over what she should do. She doesn’t want to see him. She doesn’t even want to _stay here_ and be near Kylo. _That would make her feel worse. The fact he’d pity her._ She wanted to go somewhere that was _her own_. Their home was modern, and it was _Hux’s taste. Not hers_. _And it was tainted now_.

_Had Hux and Sabine done it in their bed one rare night whilst she’d been working a late one at the gallery? She thinks, torturing herself all the more._

She couldn’t bear the thought of going back there. But she had to fetch her things… see Millie one last time. Leave her key. She forces her way through the crowds, head down, tears dripping as she went. Kylo’s eyes were fixed on her back before she disappeared from view. He watched after her until she vanished.

_Then came his temper…_

He chucked his whisky back in one gulp, and when it stung his throat, he _slammed_ his hand down into the desk and shattered the glass to thick splinters in his hand. He _didn’t feel_ the sting of it _cut_ into his big palm. He braced both hands down in clenched fists on his desk. His jaw _so tight_ he is amazed his teeth didn’t turn to _dust._ He roars through to the next room, loud enough for his two employees to hear him over the music.

The two faces of his closest _do-gooders_ , stuck both their heads around the doors. Smoker raised a wry brow, looking suave as ever with one hand casually in his trouser pocket. When they come into the room, they can see Kylo, _fuming_. Flushed with anger. _Hair wild. Eyes blazing_. And _blood_ running down his palm. Dripping down the side of his desk.

Smoker and Hayden eye each other curiously at his order, before smirking and sauntering away instantly to go do his bidding.

“Get Armitage Hux _up here_. _Now_. And make that _fucker bleed_ for me.” He snarls.

 

~

 

She steps back out onto the street, and she doesn’t _even feel_ the rain. It _pours_ down, soaking her head and sneaking down her collar. Slithering down her spine like a cold caress. Her shaking hands clutch her phone in a death grip as she trudges quickly towards the street. Her feet too, were numb, and _thoroughly_ wet and cold.

_She needed a cab. And somewhere to go… she’d stop by…she scoffs hardly wanting to call it, ‘home,’ anymore. But she’d need to gather a few essential things and scarper._

The thought of going to check into a hotel at this late hour makes her heart feel heavy. She doesn’t want to do that. She was already stuck in a _loveless_ marriage. She didn’t want to be then confined to a _loveless_ hotel room whilst she fled like a _refugee_ from her home and marriage vows. She can’t go to any of her friends places. Poe, or Em. _Not yet. Not tonight_. The pain is _too sharp_ , _too_ deep, too _fresh._

She needed time by herself to wallow in her anger and humiliation. She considers Paris _. How hard could it be to hop on a flight tonight?_ She’d be back in her hometown by tomorrow. But even that is a stale idea, because she knows a seven hour flight would leave her _feeling trapped_ with too many thoughts in her head. She’d poison herself with booze and misery by the time they’d even pulled away from the _gate_. _And she didn’t fancy weeping openly in a contained metal tube full of strangers for almost seven hours._

She stands in _a freezing huddle_ on the road. Hunched into her coat, trying _in vain_ to hail a cab, hand outstretched, waving wildly. Hoping she could be seen through the poor visibility of the torrential downpour. The rain coolly trickled down her sleeve now instead. She sighs and curses under her breath, wiping away more bitter tears of frustration that leak hot down her cheeks.

Eventually, she flags one and eagerly wrenches the door open, slamming herself inside. Able to still hear the relentless hammering of the rain patter down in the cabs roof. The cabbie raises a brow at her dripping state. She gives him her address and huddles up against the door, watching the dark city start to fly by. A _blur_ of lights, adverts, noise, crowds and traffic. Silver droplets of rain whisking by the other side of the glass.

She looks down into her lap, and when she looks down at her phone. She is suddenly hit with the _exact idea_ of who to call and _where_ she wanted to go.

She dials the number and listens to it ring. _Praying they were still up._

 _“Allo!_ Mon _amour_.” Comes a surprised pleasant coo from down the other end. In the background Sid can hear the clinking of champagne glasses, upbeat jazz music, French chatter and laughter. _Figures her elderly relative was still out and about on the town…_

 _“Victoire!…”_ She hears her exclaim happily, holding the phone away as she called for her boyfriend. In whatever bar or restaurant they were in.

 _“Vien ici_! It’s Sidney!” She calls merrily. Sid could just see her beckoning the man over, crooking her finger as she sipped her champagne and flicked ash off the end of her cigarette.

“Grand-Mère.” Sid greets. Sniffling, voice breaking. She cried more. _Not because she was sad_. But because _she missed_ _her_. She had missed her voice, her smile. Her way of dealing with life that left Sid astounded and inspired from an early age. _Because nothing scared Joséphine Rocher_.

 _“Mon chou_ , what is wrong?” Her Aunt asks her tone completely malformed. Sid could hear her previously pleased smile _had dropped_. She could _hear_ the concern in her voice.

“Hux _cheated_.” Sid manages. She takes a deep breath.

“With _Sabine_.” She adds. “They’ve been having an affair for _three years_. I just found out tonight.” She explains.

She heard Joséphine shuffle the phone in her hands. And then she heard her speak in a gabbled rush to Victoire down the other end. There was a crackle of breath as she exhaled into the receiver. And then exclaimed several very unsavoury words in French.

“ _Oui._ Je suis d’accord.” Sid agrees sadly. Plucking at a loose thread on her scarf. Mumbling as more soft tears fell, soaking into her coat lapels.

“Do you want to _come home?”_ Her Aunt enquires. “I can get you on a first class seat on the next Red Eye back Home, _no problem_.” She bargains seriously.

“Thank-you, Aunt. But I think I want to _stay here_. I was going to ask if I could use _the house_ tonight?”

 _“Oh_ -“ He Aunt waves off as if Sid had asked her to pass her salt at the dinner table. “ ‘Ave it. _I detest_ _that ‘ideous_ place.” She growls in an offhanded, _spiky, very Joséphine_ manner.

The house in question being a very tall brownstone on the Upper West. On West 82nd street. _Miles away from Hux and all her problems. All the way across the other side of the park_. Victoire had bought it for Joséphine when he came out to new York for work sometimes. _She hated_ the place compared to their luxurious French apartment. But they sometimes used it when they were in town to see her. A fleet of staff and cleaners keeping it in their absence.

“The fridge is stocked. _Mon chou._ There is wine, clean sheets on the beds and _everything_ should _be spotless_.” She promises.

 _Those words are like a magic balm to soothe her heart_.

“Thankyou.” Sid smiles meekly. “ _I can’t_ be in that apartment tonight. _I can’t face him_ tonight.” She tells.

“Then _don’t. That pig_.” Josephine spits out cruelly. Sid wipes away some tears and smiles a little at her Aunt’s cursing.

“Is there anything _else I can do?_ I could come visit, _Cheri_ , we could go shop, get drunk on expensive cocktails, smoke, and find you a new ‘usband by the _weeks end_. I know lots of rich, young Frenchmen _who’d leap_ at the chance to _‘ave you_.” She recommends naughtily.

Kylos face swims in her mind for only a _second_.

“Not _quite ready_ for that yet…” Sid chokes. Her heart cracking painfully in her chest. “But I will take a _rain check_ in a few weeks, _if I may.”_ She sniffs.

There is suddenly silence on the other end, and she can hear naught but more chattering French, laughing and the same beat of _gentle_ Parisienne Jazz.

“Aunt?” Sid asks.

 _“Écoutez-moi!_ He is _not_ worth the tears, Sid. And _don’t you dare_ blame yourself for this. _He chose_ to do this. _Let him suffer his choice_. Because, _believe me Cheri_ , it’s a _foul_ choosing he’s made.” She explains quickly. That makes more tears of gratitude leak freely. She casts her eyes to the cabs roof, placing a hand over her mouth as she tried not to break down into sobs again. _The fact Hux had chosen anyone, but her, still stung at her heart and ego._

“ _I miss_ you, you know.” Sid sighs down the phone, voice still wavering in sadness. _Not knowing that made the old woman clasp a hand over her chest the other end. And her face withdrawn with sadness and compassion for her granddaughter._

“I shall come see you soon as Victoire can get away from work. You are not alone, _mon amour,_ I am a phone call away. Now, go and do what I do when a man hurts you. ‘Ave a _long, hot_ bath. Drink too much _wine_. And absolutely _ignore ‘im.”_ She smiles at her antics.

 _If there was one thing Josephine had taught her, after her first broken heart as a young girl. It was how to crush her sadness and anger down, deep down, into a diamond, and how best to hurl them at the people who hurt her_. _Poise, and no regret. A woman couldn’t go wrong with those two attributes in life. She always said._

“I’ll call you at some point in the next couple of days _Grand-Mère._ It seems I have _a drunken evening_ to get too.” Sid smiles lightly.

She heard the elder woman sigh in irritation.

“Only because that, _imbécile,_ broke your ‘eart tonight. I will let you _get away_ with calling me Grand-Mère.” She sighs.

“ _Just_ _this once_ …” Her Aunt warns, rapping her long nails on the table in front of her as she reached for another cigarette. She put it between her lips and Victoire leaned over to light it for her.

 _“Bisous_.” Sid signs off.

Joséphine says nothing as she ends the call. She puts her phone down and _wipes away_ a stray tear of anger and upset from the corner of her eye, _so Victoire wouldn’t see her moment of weakness. But he did see nonetheless. And he held her hand tight._

Sid was close to Hux’s place now. And she wanted _nothing more_ than to get this painful part over and done with. She tells the cabbie to run the meter. She clambers out of the cab, and rushes blindly into the building. She has the lift to herself and she curses her reflection in the mirrored door in front of her. Before her anger marched forth.

Sid decided to take her Aunt’s advice – _to the letter._

She let herself into their dark apartment. Looking around for a moment at she stood in the doorway. The familiar furniture, the wallpaper she picked out and spent days putting up. The paint she agonised over. How could she have sat in this _den of mockery_ earlier, so happily, perfectly unaware of what was really happening. All the homely little touches she put into this place for them to share, and _now? Now the sight of it sickened her. Mocked her. She’d been playing home maker whilst he was out there balls deep in her best friend every other night._

_How could he?_

Millie snaps to attention from her warmed spot on the bed when Sid loudly attacks a framed picture of them on the hallway. She slams the frame to the floor. Watching the glass shatter, and the picture beneath, of the both of them, smiling in each other’s arms. _Now it lay beaming up at her from under a jagged mess of splintered glass._ She cries, angrily staring down at the mess, before stepping over it and storming to the lounge.

She grabs the half full glass of wine she had earlier, it had warmed now but she didn’t care. _She wanted every memory of Hux and her, gone. She wanted to erase him just as he had cast her out without a backwards glance._

“Here’s to _a bad goodbye_ , darling.” She toasts hatefully to the dark, empty apartment. Tear springing down her face.

She downs the big glass in one. And puts it back down, sighing after the sting tore at her throat. She made for the bedroom and began to gather a few things. Throwing them haphazardly into a big bag. She can send for someone else to come fetch the rest of her possessions after they’ve divided everything up. She strokes Millie fondly where she lays purring on the bed.

“Be seeing you, _old girl_. I don’t think _I belong_ here anymore.” Sid whispers quietly to the cat as she strokes her small ears. Who purrs up at her. _Not understanding as her tail flicks merrily._

She withdraws her hand and heads for the door. She pauses by the kitchen island, looking down onto her hand. She sees the cold, heavy weight of her wedding band and engagement ring sparkling dully in the dark. She bites her lip and blinks away her angry tears as she wrenches and wriggles until both things sit in her palm.

_Her hand feels naked._

She places them down on the granite surface of the side counter. _In plain view._ And on the back of an unused envelope she pulls her ink pen from her bag and scrawls a barren note for him to find along with the two rings.

Uncaring for what his response would be. _Worry? Shame? She doesn’t care._ He’s made his bed, and now he can lay with the consequences…

 _‘Enjoy her.’_  Reads her note.

Then she heads for the door and even though it _kills her_ not to _. She doesn’t look_ _back_.

 

~

 

 

 


	7. The Big Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So. Ironically. wrote this listening to a *lot* of Sade and Adele. (for this one, crank up 'The Big Unknown' By Sade that was written for the Widows movie. Its amazing. I champion Sade, she is a goddess) Those two fine ladies have breakup music at its finest, methinks. 
> 
> And I'm gonna be realllllyyy mean and leave the showdown between Mr & Mrs Hux til the next chapter. which, is (Spoiler alert) when Sid will spill the beans about Kylo to her (battered) ex-husband. Cause don't even try telling me Ren didn't knock seven shades out the guy. (Tryyyy me. That man is a tattooed frigging Knight-in-armour) 
> 
> And also, I'm sorry this one is a bit shorter than most. I just wanted to get in on Sid, and how she's trying to be single again. Hope that carries off. and Please know I love every single damn one of you that clicks on this here story. (yes you, reading this) you're awesome and any feedback you leave makes my heart sing. Very, very much appreciated. All of you. Angels.

 

 

Four days later, and Sid found herself returning to the gallery early one frosty, autumnal morning. Sat in a cold cab as it roared through central park, under the arc of golden brown, and dusky red trees about to shed all their leaves for the coming winter.

She flexed her chilled hands under her leather gloves. Her feet were exposed to the cruel nip in the air in her red heels. Today, instead of her usual pencil dress – because in a good sense she didn’t feel like her usual self – she’d opted for high waisted, black, wide leg trousers. A white cotton shirt tucked into it, with a slightly daring red lace bralette teasing at the undone buttons down to the top of her sternum. She’d wrapped herself up in a big soft wool trench coat, and had golden and grey scarf knotted tight around her neck, keeping the chill out.

She’d done the classic ‘recently split up’ trope. She threw off the ties of home and embraced doing bold, new things. She wasn’t a sad, boring, married spouse anymore. She was clawing back some single freedom. Uncaring how sadly pathetic it made her look at her age…

Her hair, she’d drastically altered. Instead of the shoulder length dull auburn it had been. It was now a short, choppy, asymmetric  bob of intense copper curls that fell delicately around her face. After a day of wallowing in bed and crying the tears of grieving widow, she’d looked in the mirror in frustration. Time to remedy that. She marched straight out to the nearest salon and told them to dye it all over, and cut most of it off. She’d defied the most sacred tradition of turbulent personal trauma; when going through something, leave ones hair alone. She’d thrown that caution to the wind and stated ‘fuck it.’ The only reason she’d kept her hair the shoulder sweeping length it was before, was because Hux had  once said he liked her with long hair. So away it went…

She shuffled her feet as she sat, scrunching and uncrunching her toes to keep the pins and needles of cold at bay. A warm Starbucks latte sandwiched in her hands, seeping its warmth into her gloves. The scent of espresso, caramel, cinnamon and spices filling, hugging, the air of the cab. Aswell as her freshly applied perfume she’d spritzed on as she rushed out the door. She sipped it and smiled at the sight of the sun only just peeking through the trees across the Parks russet brown, maple red, and golden horizon.

She loved New York like this. Still cold, not stirring yet. A city still gripped in slumber of a cold fall night.

The first night in the house was the worst. She did little else but sob, and drink. And sat in a very hot bath til it grew cold, and she was pruned beyond recognition. She switched her phone off and hid it away so she could drown herself in solitude and wine. She slowly drank the best part of a very cold bottle of French pink wine to herself. Then she flopped into a miserable heap in the main bedroom and cried until she can’t remember falling asleep.

She didn’t know how to be. How could she be separated, when all she knew how to be was Armitage Hux’s wife? How could she know what to do now? What would she do now? She’d spent fifteen years married to him. She never dreamt she’d see the day when she wasn’t.

When she woke up the next morning her eyes were stinging raw and bloodshot. She didn’t want to eat. She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to get up and acknowledge her terrible reflection in the mirror. She slumbered the day away in miserable silence. She ate breakfast alone, sat and tried to distract herself reading a book alone. She realised how daunting the word alone became after living in such a quiet, empty house. Four floors of pure silence.

And she was sick of it.

No Millie clattering about or meowing in the next room. No husband moving about in his study with his usual Bon Iver playing. She wanted noise, she wanted something to remind her that she liked having company. Anything but the stony silence. Adoring the cliché that she was not supposed to feel comfortable. Or right, with things how they were now, she ignores her fears, and sets out in mind to do something about it.

No fears. No remorse. No regrets.

Even though the nearest animal shelter to her was all the way down in Soho, she made the trek. And she picked out someone she knew was a bit like her. Millie had always been more Hux’s, than hers. She wanted someone who needed a second chance at finding a forever home where they belonged. She found Newt. A four year old scruffy mongrel of a Parsons long legged Jack Russell mixed with god knows what else. A small little, white and brown splotched terrier with big eyes and taupe coloured, folded over ears. He was apparently wily, and full of characterful, odd quirks they’d told her... Sid scratched behind his wiry ear as he wagged his tail at her and knew they’d get along just fine.

She took him home that very same day. Bought him an insane amount of beds, treats, toys and food. Turns out the things he liked to chase were the pigeons in the garden, and what he liked best to chew on was a pair of Victoire’s Prada loafers. She wouldn’t rat him out… He was - fairly - well behaved for a rescue and snored and grunted like a freight train. Sid slept with a smile that night with her new best friend on his back, paws thrown wildly In the air as he snuggled into her armpit. That was the quiet problem sorted.

That next night, she rang Poe, and Em, and gathered her troops off for Drag Queen Cabaret in Hells Kitchen. She hadn’t laughed so much with her little coven of friends in such a long time. They all ended up getting completely and wholly trashed. She ended the night slow dancing with Poe to Careless Whisper, clutching onto half a bottle of beer with her arms strung about his neck, swaying with him like the drunken fools they both were. She recalled he was somehow wearing a kinky, PVC, village people bikers hat. Em and Poe were so good at making her laugh and getting her drunk on shots, she forgot her pain for a whole evening. It had been replaced with the side splitting memory of Poe being pinched on the butt by a very randy Shirley Bassey.

Waking up the next day with a pounding hangover, her awakening proved to be to Newt sniffing at her hair in urging for his breakfast and a walk. She laughed a lot when she opened her eyes and saw he had a big, bright red lipstick print she left on his furry white head when she kissed him goodnight.

She took him out and sank atleast a litre of Gatorade on a park bench whilst she watched him bark after and chase squirrels up trees in the park. And then. Temples still pounding, she returned Newt home, and embarked on her next quest against her lamented ex-husband. She went to a tattoo parlour in Murray Hill and had her Grand-Mères favourite flower inked on her right forearm. A cape Jasmine. Like the ones Billie Holliday wore in her hair, Joséphine would always smile, crowing about how she adored the scent. Sid did too. Next, that very same day, she punched a hole in the helix of her left ear. Where now sat a tastefully small, very expensive silver tiffany hoop.

She was a new woman. She sure as hell felt like one. It was only when she turned on her phone after four days of ignoring messages, that she realised her estranged husband had been trying to contact her old self, all that while. 43 missed calls. 64 Texts. He’d tried every conceivable way of contacting her.

I’ve rung your grandmother, Victoire, Poe, Emilio, everyone I can think of. None of them will tell me where you are. Or where you’re staying. Please just tell me, Sid?

I’ve phoned every hotel in Manhattan to try and find you… Where are you, please? Sweetpea?

I’m going insane, Sid. You have to tell me where you are. Please. We clearly need to talk.

You don’t deserve a word from me. She thinks.

She’d clearly let him suffer. That gave her just a small, glad, niggle of pride.

He’d doubtless found her note, and her wedding rings sat waiting for him at home, when she wasn’t. She solves the problem of her communicating with him by deleting his number with a swish of her finger and a smile stretched on her rosy lips. She didn’t have time to devote to feeling sorry for his worrying.

She’d been fretting about them for three years. Look how that had turned out for her…

She had a new show going up today, and that was what she was going to focus all her energy into. After the cab slows to a stop at her beautiful gallery, she hops out, merrily pays the driver and practically skips up the steps to the front double doors. Her jaw grits and one eyebrow raises in a quirk when she sees the front desk.

Empty.

She takes a deep breath and soldiers over to it. It was emptier than usual. No little Japanese desk plants. No funky coloured pens sorted into her organiser. No neon post-its flanking the computer screen.

There was, however, a letter. Bold, flat, stark. Sat waiting for her on the clean surface. A rectangular little slip of paper left with her name on it. She knew whose handwriting that was. It happened to belong to the absentee employee who should have been at the reception desk before her.

Smart girl. Sid sighs bitterly. She’d scarpered while her back was turned.

Sid stands there for a moment, coffee stood down as she whips off her gloves and folds her bag onto her elbow. She picks up her coffee once more and sips it. Examining the letter in the other hand. But one look at the looped, girlish handwriting, she scoffs. Crushes the piece of paper into a ball in one palm, and lobs it over the counter into the bin.

It had just clanged to its final resting place when she hears footsteps gross the empty, echoing space towards where she was stood. She looks up to see Poe smiling across at her, his expression between a smile and a wince.

“I didn’t know if you wanted to see it, or not…” He tells her. Folding his hands behind his back. Looking very fetching today in a bright cobalt blue suit and tan shoes. Sid stares him down and takes a deep breath as she slaps her gloves down into her bag.

“Not.” She tells him with firm finality. Her eyes looked dangerously sharp. Sipping the last dregs of her latte as she clacked across to him, opening the belt of her coat as she went. Poe could see her eyes still looked a little red around the edges. He didn’t blame her.

He holds his hands up in surrender.

“We’ll need to start organising interviews for a new receptionist. I’ll call the head hunter in a bit.” She sighs, talking to her deputy as they cross the Gallery floor together. Moving over across to the stairs.

“Digging the new piercing by the way. Being separated looks good on you…” Poe smiles, leaning close as they climb the stairs side by side. He’d seen her new bright, short hair-do the night they went out to the Drag Cabaret. Sid smiles and pulls up her coat sleeve to show him her tattoo.

His face breaks out into the biggest smile, He belly laughs, and strokes the pad of his thumb over the black flower as he forced her to stop so he could examine it.

“Shit. You really take no prisoners, do you Sugar?” He asks her with a smile. Sid smiles to herself as she tucks her sleeve back down.

“Oh, and I got a dog…” She smiles, fishing in her bag for her phone. When she finds it, she unlocks the screen to show Poe her Newt.

“Are you kidding me? You’ve gone the full Eat, Pray, Love, huh? What’s happening to my Sid?” He asks in alarm. He looks at the picture she offers. “He’s cute… Rescue?” He adds. She nods a smile.

“So far he’s staked his claim on the house by eating most of Victoire’s shoes. But only the left ones. He’s an odd one, But I love him...” She tells him. Smiling at the weird neuroses of her dog.

“You’ll have to come for a walk with me and BB some time. He loves the park…” Poe offers. Talking about his most precious possession on this earth. His baby. His pudgy, round little corgi dog. Poe used to bring him to work some days. But she almost had to ban the naughty canine when he’d cocked his leg on a very expensive fine art sculpture. She wasn’t bringing her Newt in until she cured his fetish for shoe chewing.

“My schedule is wide, open.” Sid tells him with humour in her voice.  Poe makes a face.

“Still no word from him huh?” He asks her. She dares a look across at her friend.

“40 missed calls. God knows how many texts.” She tells him. “I’ve been ignoring my phone…” She tells him with a low growl. He makes that face again.

“You look damn good for what he’s put you through…” He interjects.

Sid laughs drily.

“What did you think I’d be?” She asked him, narrowing her eyes with a genial smile.

“Sad, I guess?” He held out, his expression bewildered.

“Am I supposed to be a wailing, sobbing mess who cries buckets, listening to nothing but Adele and Sade, getting wine drunk, and just generally letting myself go?” She asks with a shred of hilarity. Putting  a hand on her hip as she stood on the stairs looking at her colleague.

“Hey. All I’m saying. Is that you’re entitled to be a hot mess by this point... Otherwise you’ll bottle stuff up and up until you grow old, and mad, and hate men and end up haggard with seven dogs and no sex life. And a weird hoarding obsession. And I can’t watch that happen to you! Sid. You’re great. You’re the best boss, to work for. You bake every friend you have a cake on their birthday. You smile at everyone. You’re funny as hell. You are more charming perhaps even than my very good self. You deserve to meet a great guy who knows what he has in you. And, this is my very long winded way of saying, it’s ok right now for you to be… hurt. To feel hurt….or sad, or betrayed.” He explains.

“Take a month off work and run away to Italy and have a hot, very short, sexual relationship with a gorgeous Italian. Go and spend time doing spiritual retreats or spa retreats or whatever people do to define themselves when the one person they thought the world of, let them down.” He tells, voice rising to a passionate pitch.

Sid tilts her head. Smiles. And leans over to press a kiss to his cheek and give him a one armed hug. His lemony, peppery cologne filling her senses as she hugged her best friend tight.

“Thankyou, Poe.” She tells him seriously. “Look. To assuage your fears that I wont end up a haggard man-hating-hoarder, with no front teeth, and seven dogs. The first night, on my own in that house? I drank a bottle of wine and cried enough to fill an ocean. I’ve been horrible and sad, and let my sadness keep me wallowing in bed for a day, but now, I’m just really angry. And I want to be angry.” She emphasised with a passion filled voice.

“It’s an angry kind of a thing.” Poe justified. She sighs before she turns to him.

“I’ve got to ask….” She sighs with closed eyes. Steeling herself up to hear this answer.

“Did you know?” She says. “Did you have even a spec of suspicion?” She seeks. Treading carefully. Her face pinched, eyebrows drawn. Her hand pressing against her own sternum. “Was it me? Were they mooning around here, all, flirty… and I had no idea?” She adds. Poe stroked a hand down her arm. Shaking his head.

“I had no idea. I knew she was seeing someone. She kept changing the subject every time I asked. But I also had a bad feeling of why she couldn’t tell me more about him. I just assumed he was a ex-con, or something. Not…” He grows quiet.

“Hux.” Sid finished.

“I couldn’t believe he’d do something like that…” Poe growled hotly. With fiery indignation in his tone.

“Well. It’s certainly eye-opening. He wasn’t interested in getting any from me, that’s for damn sure.” Sid laments as they move up the stairs and through to her office. She unlocks it, and hangs up her coat on the back of the door. Throwing her bag down by her desk she slumps into her chair, looking at the pile of letters before her that had collected in her absence. Poe sat opposite, lounging in one of the French louis style chairs that flanked the adjacent side of her desk.

“Now I step back and really, look, at things, I wonder how I didn’t spot it any earlier…” She tells him with a grunt as she tears open letters.

“It’s one of those things. If two people want to keep it hidden. You can’t see what’s going on when you’re inside it all. An outsiders perspective can really help.” Poe offers.

She sighs, shakes her head, and brushes the thought of her crumbled marriage to one side.

“So... Enough about the shitstorm that is my love-life. Talk to me about the show. How’s the curation going for this afternoon?” She diverts. This was the first time Poe was curating a show on his own. She’d offered to step in if he needed help, but she was excited to see his take on it.

“Artist will be here for preliminary set-up around 3. And after its up, You are going home and putting on something suitably raunchy, and I am taking you, hot mess, to Harry’s Bar, in Chelsea, where we will be ingesting a whole cocktail menu.”

“I have to walk Newt, tonight.” She tries to put off with a smile as she slid her glasses on and started her PC.

“Go home and walk him. But I will be in front of your apartment, 8 on the dot, and we’re going out to get smashed and talk smack about that no good ex-hubby of yours.” Poe insists.

She could use a cocktail…. Or seven.

“Let’s hope you don’t get Liza Minelli’s phone number shoved in your back pocket this time…” She smirks. Referring to the ‘incident’ that occurs when a handsome man such as Poe was dragged into a Drag Cabaret Club.

“Well. I’m not ruling anything out tonight. Tonight. We say ‘yes’, to everything. We are doing ‘Yes’ night, Miss Rocher.” Poe smirks, slapping the armchair rests in victory. Waggling his brows deviously.

“Why am I nervous at the sound of ‘Yes’ night?” She asks with caution.

“Tonight is one night. Where we say yes to everything we are asked…” Poe points at her. “You, in particular. So. I’m picking you up at eight…”

“Yes.” Sid smiles.

“You’ll drink what I tell you to drink?”

“Yes.” She repeats.

“You’ll wear something slutty so we can start prowling you around for your next husband?” He winks.

She rolls her eyes. And fights off a growl.

“Yes.” She finally relents.

“Good.” He smirks, rising to a stand. “Why don’t you invite your, buyer, friend…The gigantic, tattooed, mountainous one.” He smirks deviously. Buttoning his jacket as he stood.

She narrows her eyes.

“Get out of my office.” She dictates. Staring him down through her glasses like a stern teacher.

“You were supposed to say yes.” Poe interjects cheekily from the door.

When her eyes raise again, he holds his hands aloft in surrender. And backs out the door with a huge grin.

“Wasn’t I supposed to fire you?” Sid remembers. Poe blows her a kiss from the other side of the shutting door.

She sighs to herself as her office is her calm, quiet space once again. Her tranquil spot in a city full of noise. A yes night with Poe. She thinks. There was a very real possibility she could end up in Tijuana by the end of it. She just gets into her email inbox, when Poe very quickly reappears at her office door and pushes it inwards very quickly.

She looks up and frowns. She sighs angrily as she wrenches off her glasses.

“I swear to god, Poe.” She whines. “Who have you pissed off, and, or, slept with now?” She asks in a growl. Standing up from her desk and throwing her letters down on the keyboard. When she rounds it and looks up to him, his expression is, shaded. Taut.

“Sugar, it ain’t someone for me.” He speaks lowly.

“Hux is here.”

Her blood boils and her stomach steels over with nerves, mingled with hatred. With her pen in hand and glasses in the other she marches to the door. Her fists clenched and her face impassively frosty.

Poe catches her hand as she walks past and takes her pen off her, quickly.

“No sharp-ish objects…” He suggests. Watching her storm past, and down the corridor. He pulls the door shut in her wake.

“That wouldn’t end well…” He speaks to himself and the room before him, judging by her temper, she didn’t need a weapon.

 

~


	8. Cocktails and Kisses

 

 

 

Poe didn’t wish to mention it to her face; but Sid looked like _hell fury_. For the woman who always had a faint essence of a saintly Julie Andrews goodness and grace about her, seeing her stalking away with an ireful expression and steam practically _pouring_ out of her ears, left him shrinking back into his own office. He’d come out in a _good few_ minutes when they’d finished the _row_ he _knew_ was bound to come. _Or when they drag away her ex-husband in a body bag. Either one was plausible_. Judging by his bosses simmering temper.

She stalks down the corridor, seeing a familiarly tall figure. Leaning, his back to her, hunched over with both hands braced against the banister, looking out over the gallery. His suit was pressed and immaculate as ever. A deep charcoal grey. As he was facing away from her, she admired the sharp definition of his jawline, the side of his pale face, and the tousled flop of red hair. He turns when he hears the clack of her heels stop, a far distance away, from him.

Her stomach _knots_ when he turns over his shoulder to face her.

His face was _marred_ with bruises. He had a cut on his forehead. A black, purple eye sprouting across his cheekbone. And a split lip. That _wasn’t_ the result of a casual punch. _That was a sign of an attack if she ever she saw one. She doesn’t quite know what to feel, or say, about that._ He simply looks at her for a moment. He was scrutinising _her new_ appearance just as much as _she_ was _his_.

“And _you’re here_ for?” Sid asks lowly. No hint of remorse or love in her tone. Her icy voice rivalled her steely mask. She stood with a straight back, head high, eyes _fixed_ on him. But her expression was _inscrutable._

He turns fully around, his back pressed against the banister as he held her eyeline.

“I was _worried_ about you Sid. Don’t be _like that...”_ He sighs sadly.

 _“Oh, my_ mistake. You _don’t get_ to tell me how _to be,_ anymore. You _gave up_ that little right.” She informs him cruelly. Almost _snapping_ her words.

“ _Sid._ I went _out of my mind_ trying to find out where you went… we _need to talk_ about this…”

“There is, _nothing_ , else you could say to me that I wish to hear.” She offers snidely.

 _“Look_. I, know I well-and-truly, fucked up…” He explains to her.

 _“Understatement_ of the century.” Sid tells him, eyes narrowed to slits, folding her arms across her chest. He pins her in place with a pointed gaze.

“I know you’re pissed and you’ve _every right_ to be. But I just wanted a chance to _explain_ myself Sid. I don’t know _how_ it happened. All I know is _it did_. It started in Paris and, we tried to stop what we both felt. But it _was_ … Sabine and I, were…” He tried to begin. She cuts him off, her voice razor sharp.

“I don’t need the _specifics…”_ She seethes.

“I _couldn’t help it._ And _neither_ could she… we both felt it, something…. powerful” He suggests. _Her heart was slowly suffocating in her chest._

“Like how you felt when you met _me_.” Sid states matter-of-factly. _She was shaking with hatred and rage_.

“ _Poor you_ , you were _helpless_ to resist her…” She growls.

“Whatever happened. We’re _apart now_. I’ve said we need to split up whilst _I sort us_ out.” He bites back, voice rising. Angry at all her interjections.

“You don’t need to _sort us out_. Armitage. We, were _sorted out_ the moment who decided to _fuck_ a tween, rather than trying to put any considerable _ounce_ of effort into our marriage.” She snaps back. She stalks forwards and gets right up close to him.

“You know what _really pisses me off?_ Not, _surprisingly_ , the fact you cheated on me _for three years_ with my best friend and Receptionist. That was _crushing..._ But what _really killed me_ was the fact that you just _gave up_ on us…” She shouts. Her voice scraping _sore_ through her throat.

“You made _a fool_ out of me. Letting me love and fuss over you when your heart, love, attention, and _other interests_ were _firmly_ seated elsewhere.” She continues.

“You didn’t even try to _talk to me_ , _not once_. We _both_ felt it. We both _knew_ it was a rough patch. Moving from Paris, to here, to restart our lives… and you didn’t even _fight_ for the last _fifteen_ years we spent together. You decided to be a _selfish prick_ , think with _your cock_ , and _just go_ with what was _easiest_ for you.” She accuses, stabbing a finger, _hard_ , into his shoulder.

“I never imagined what a _heartless, cold bastard_ you could be.” She growls quietly. “Thankyou for letting me realise _it so fully_.” She spits.

He grit his teeth looking down at her.

“You want Sabine. _Have her_.” She glares.

“Not _like this_.” Hux states, reaching down and gripping her wrist.

“You’re _my wife_ , Sid. I can’t, I…” He starts. She wrenches her arm away.

“Don’t _you dare_ say you _love me_. A man who _loves_ me wouldn’t have _treated me_ the way you did. Keep secrets from me. Ignore me. Insult me. Humiliate me. Not even tell me when he borrows $40k from a _fucking_ loan shark…” She yells.

He shuts his eyes and curses under his breath. “ _Shit.”_ He sighs.

“Money for your sugar baby?” Sid asks with a sweet, angry voice.

“Not for _her_.” He fumes.

“It was in _her benefit_ though wasn’t it.” Sid pushes. “Do you have the _lucky side girl_ installed in some _lavish_ Tribeca loft studio somewhere…” She digs.

“Her mother’s _sick.”_ He shouts back in retaliation. Her throat closes up. _He really had been keeping her in the dark of it all. How come Sabine never mentioned this? even as a friend?_

“So she gets a fuck buddy _and a_ pay-out. _How charitable of you_. My, what a paragon of virtue.” She pipes up.

“How did _you know_ about _the loan?”_ He interrogates.

“I found Ren’s business card in your Jacket when _you asked me_ to look for your lighter. You’re never a nightclub man. _Wasn’t hard_ to connect the dots. So I went to see him….” She answers stiffly. “I think you’ll _also_ find _your debt_ is forgiven.” She adds. If he was going to wound her, she was going to _hit_ back, _tenfold_.

“What?” He snaps. “You went to see him, why?”

“Well, _at the time_ , I was worried and _madly_ in love with you, and I wanted to find out _why_ you’d kept, _yet another_ , secret from me.” She smiles callously for a fleeting second, before she snaps back to her rage. He crowds closer into her body. She raises her head and glares coolly.

“Please tell me you didn’t give _that bastard_ any of our money…” He threatens.

 _“Oh_ , we came to _an arrangement_ …” She purrs nastily.

His eyes flash and his jaw grits,

“What _sort_ of arrangement?” He demands. She raises a brow.

“ _I fucked_ him.” She grinds out without a whiff of remorse. Shrugging thereafter. _His face looked like thunder._

“You _screwed_ another man behind my back?” He snarls. Spitting each word with hatred.

“People in glass houses _shouldn’t_ throw stones.” She hisses lowly.

“And compared to _your three years_ of duality. Id say its barely a _drop_ in the ocean, considering I went there because I was concerned about what _you’d been doing_ … I just never thought the answer to that casual enquiry would involve you _doing_ my best friend..” She answers calmly.

“He was, _very_ , good. By the way.” She shuts her eyes. Sighing in mock pleasure.

“Made me cum _harder_ than I had in months.” She purrs again. Arms still folded across herself.

“I _don’t need_ the specifics…” He barks. Rescinding her words from earlier. His temper at boiling point when he thought of them together.

“He _called me_ to the club, _that night._ Let me see what was _really_ going on. That man has more dignity _and respect_ for me than you seem to have.” She insults.

“ _Fucking_ a loan shark?” He sneers at her. _“Congrats_ on your fine choice..” He sarcs. “You’re fantastic _new boyfriend_ beat the ever living _shit out_ of me, that night. And threw me to the curb.” He informs her.

_She says nothing. But she so badly wants to smile._

“So. Is Kylo Ren _the reason_ for your _, change_ , in appearance?” He asks snidely. Eyeing her short hair, piercing and the tattoo that was peeking out from her rolled sleeves.

“No. _NO!_ ” She shouts suddenly, wagging a finger at him. Her rage bursting out of her.

“You don’t get to _do that_ to me, Armitage. _You don’t_ get to _break me_ apart, and then complain about the way _I piece myself_ back together…” She shouts. Jabbing a finger gesturing to herself.

“And, _no, he is not the reason I changed_. Cause, see, when I _defile_ our marriage vows. I tend to make it a singular, stand-alone occasion. _Unlike you.”_  She fights back. “And _I rotted_ with guilt for a week because of it. You’ve said a lot to me today. But, _nowhere_ in there, am I seeing _to hear_ an apology. You don’t seem to regret your _little paramour.”_

“I came here _find you_ , I was _sick_ with worry for you after you left your wedding ring and that _fucking_ note. I wanted  to try and _apologise to you Sid_.”

“I _don’t want_ your apology. I want a _divorce_.” She fairly yells.

_That stops him dead in his tracks._

“Divorce?” He asks in a hush.

 _She looks at him evenly for the first time_ since he walked in here. Without anger. Without regret. _This is what she wanted._

“I can’t ever _be_ with, or love, a man who chose to _hurt_ me the way you did.” She explains.  

“You did the _most egregious, hurtful_ thing you could _ever_ to do me. Hux. And I can’t…. _get over that_. I doubt _I will ever_ forgive you.” She speaks lowly.

“I’m calling my lawyer to draw up papers. Then we can file. You can _have_ the house. You can _have Millie._ I just want my _possessions,_ my things from Paris. I _don’t_ want to be married to you anymore.” She explains fully.

From the look in her eyes, he _can tell_ she _means this_. He’d never seen Sid look _so serious_ about anything before. He never thought it would come to this…

He looks at her for a long second. _Wondering when they grew so apart. How it had come to this?_ Them stood, yelling at each other in her gallery. Angry voices and vile words drifting up to echo around the resonant ceiling. He never expected this. He expected a fight, _but not_ _the fight_ to end _all fights_. _That was part of her problem with this. He’d stopped fighting long ago. He’d stopped caring long before that. There was no hope in this cold, dead impasse of a place they found themselves at._

He reaches down to his left hand, and they both watch as he tugs the silver wedding ring off his finger. He looks at her, and nods lightly as he puts it in his pocket.

“This what you _want?_ ” He asks. Just to be sure.

“Yes. It is.” She finalises.

“ _Bye,_ Sidney.” He grunts in a breathy whisper.

He turns, and walks down the stairs and off into the lobby. She watches him leave. And when the door shuts behind him with a resounding, final, clank. _And he is gone._ She lets loose a deep breath that she didn’t know she had been holding. Fifteen years, and it was over just like that. She didn’t know if she felt _crushed, or relieved_.

Everything seemed _up in the air_ to her right now. She didn’t feel right, she knew that. But she knew carrying on with Hux as _if nothing_ had happened wouldn’t be something she could do. Every time he kissed her, with those cheating lips, all she’d ever picture, _is her,_ with him. Every time he worked late, she’d wonder if his excuse was a lie. It was _downright cruel_ of him to ask her to re-trust a man who had _no dignity_ in lying to her, and hurting her.

She didn’t want to be one of those couples who spent the rest of their marriage, _sexless, and sniping_ at each other, putting each other down in public, making the other miserable. Never separating, for fear of what ruin it would cause, and staying with each other passing like distant planets in orbit. Settling into a cold marriage. She _wasn’t_ a sniping kind of woman _. Unless provoked._ She couldn’t be with Hux anymore because he had shown her she was nothing better to him than a second choice.

_And dammit, she wasn’t the most confident girl on the planet. But she knew her worth was significantly more than that._

She turns and heads back to her office. A little _numb,_ from their vicious fight. However, she was ultimately glad with her choice. It wasn’t leaving her feeling settled just yet. But she knew what would. She wanted to buy that big _beautiful_ house from Victoire, if he’d let her. And she wanted to make it her own. Stop tiptoeing around it like she was to be leaving it soon. That place had become _a solace_ , to her. She felt glad returning home there. A blissful second home when her first was in turmoil and anger.

She’d liked the apartment she shared with Hux. But it was modern and _not her taste_ at all. _Despite how hard she tried to alter it_. She wanted her new beginning to start over fresh. And her new place had parquet floors, crown moulding, and antique features she’d grown to adore.

The old place was starting _to feel homely_ to her. She appreciated every quirk, nook, and historic feature. She liked the kitchen, the ability to have a garden with trees and grass. And with Newt curled up on her blanketed feet at night as she lounged on the settee, drank wine and cooked _whatever she fancied_ for dinner, there _was nowhere else_ she’d _rather be._

She paused, hand on her office door as Poe stuck his head out of his office, and regarded her. She raised a brow.

“How _much_ of that did you hear?” She asked seriously.

“Only. _Parts, here_ and there…” He waved of pithily.

She nods.

“We may be getting through _more_ than _several_ cocktails on that menu.” She informs him.

“Hey, _I gotta_ say yes… don’t I?” He grins. Reaching over and squeezing her hand.

“For what it’s worth? I think _You’re amazing_ Sid.” He tells her. She smiles, blushing a little. And then sighs.

“By the way. _I rang your fancy guy_. Told him where we’d be tonight, if he wanted to _drop by…_ ” He flirts.

“Poe!” She tries, telling him off.

“What’s the _harm?_ ” He shrugs casually.

She glares _. “How’d you_ get his number?” She asks.

“Snagged it off the sellers ledger when I reviewed it earlier. _I’m sorry_ but a guy don’t _spend $80k_ on art _without trying_ to impress a girl he’s keen on. No one loves art that much without _a little, motive_ ” He winks.

“He’s pulling _some serious wooing_ moves on you, _Sugar_. Have a drink. Flirt back. He won’t try _forever_ …” He suggests.

“I hate, _‘Yes’_ night…” She tells him in a warning.

His answer is a cheesy, handsome, grin.

“Which means if he asks you for _another fuck_ , _you’re obligated_ to say yes.” He informs sexily. Waggling his brows.

 _Sadly_ , his grin doesn’t last long as he tries to dodge out of the way when she _lobs her, very sharp_ , red Jimmy Choo at his head.

 

 

~

 

 

Harrys was one of her favourite New York staples. Opened in 1931 by a young Bostonian. And open since then, had become a landmark for the New York glitterati. Woody Allen, Hemingway, Hitchcock, Chaplin and James Stewart were all known to have been patrons here through the ages. Famed, for its very excellent and very dry martini’s. The décor and the food was classically and _tastefully_ Italian. Warm wood accents and honey gold lighting gave the place a nice, cosy, moody vibe at night.

The place was packed to the rafters, luckily, Poe had _seduced_ the brunette hostess into acquiring two seats at the bar. Which was where they now sat, elbows rested on the polished wood as he enjoyed a fruity Harvey Wallbanger, and she sipped daintily on a bright pink, very sweet, Cosmopolitan, feeling _very_ Carrie Bradshaw as she did. He’d dressed up to the nines in his expensive, macro-checked grey Brioni suit, and navy tie. She too had opted for an _Italian themed_ dress code.

She had on tonight her emerald green D&G playsuit, playfully teasing her cleavage, dipping down low over her back, and emphasising her waist. The most eye catching part of her outfit, however, was her shoes. Fresh from the designer shoe shop she went into today to buy a little something to perk her up, for her drink-date with Poe. They were a golden, beige, and encrusted, swarming, with silver jewels. From the Jimmy Choo Cinderella collection. Simple, long golden earrings brushed down to her neck, and she’d let her hair do its wavy thing on her head. She gave herself bronze cat eye make up and felt like, roughly, _six million dollars_ , after her earlier _let down_ that afternoon.

It had been _so long_ since she’d been single, she felt like tonight would certainly _blow_ the cobwebs away. She was out to prove she wasn’t a no-hope case. _There was life in this old dog yet, as Poe had, lovingly, put it._ Still, she blushed enormously to herself when she felt a couple of guys _check her out_ as they walked their way to the bar. Poe was certain to stare a bit and put his hand on her lower back to make sure the suckers didn’t try and pulled any  _bold_ moves. _And now, here_ they were, _almost_ three sheets to the wind. On their third cocktail of the night, feeling very drunk as they both toe tapped to the music.

“We should _absolutely go_ dancing…” Poe states after he gulps down the last of his drink. Sliding it away and requesting an Alabama Slammer. She hangs her head down and sighs after taking another _gentile_ sip of her Cosmo. _He was definitely a couple drinks ahead of her…_

“ _Yes_ …” She agrees with a biting whine.

“Jazz club though. One of those _hidden, underground_ ones in the Village.”

“Fine.” She smiles. “I like Jazz.” She soothes.

“ _You have_ to dance…” Poe explains as he leans close and nods and nods until she smiles, almost spitting her drink out.

“Say yes. _Lemme hear ya_ say yes. _Sugar_ …” He suggests, stilting his head away and cupping his hand around his ear, urging her on with the other hand crooking his fingers.

“ _Yes. You drunken mess.”_ She leans close and speaks into his ear.

 _“Well._ That makes us an excellent team, now doesn’t it _? The Drunken Mess_ , and the _Hot Mess._ _Barkeep!”_ Poe loudly calls, slapping his hand lightly down on the bar. She laughs, shaking her head as she lowers her lips once again to the rim of her glass.

_He was such an energetic drunk…_

“Two of your finest, _leg spreaders_ , _please.”_ He orders with no shame _. ”Extra cherry_ for the lady _.”_ He adds.

_Sid nearly chokes on her drink._

“ _Leg_ spreaders?” She affirms. Watching the barman mix it _without question_. “ _Do I want_ to know?” She asked with trepidation. _The barman had poured far too many spirits into one shaker for her liking…_ When finished they are presented with two martini glasses full of a dark orange drink. Hers with two cherries and a slither of range peel bobbing near the rim.

“ _Chin, chin_ …” She supposes with dread, eyeing the drink with trepidation. Toasting it in the air to his.

“Here’s to _your_ sex life.” Poe leers.

“You need _to calm it_ with the foray into _my_ sex life. Deviant.” She tells him firmly.

“What _are friends for?”_ He smirks sweetly.

She slides the cocktail stick into her mouth, chewing the sweet cherry before she _bravely_ attempts a sip. _The sting_ that tore at her mouth almost made her _eyes water_. She managed to swallow the very heavy drink and gasps after she does.

“Tequila. Vodka. Gin. Rum.” Poe smirks, sipping his and not looking the least bit phased by the taste. She gives a great sigh as she reaches for the peanut and olive bowl sat not far away from them. Popping several of each into her mouth, and piling more onto her little square drinks napkin. _She’d forgotten the golden rule of drinking with Poe. It was safer for all to line her stomach first…_

“What is _your aim_ in getting me this, _steaming_ , drunk?” She asks with nervousness.

“Get you drunk _and_ laid. In that order…” He reveals checking off an invisible list. She rolls her eyes and re-sips her drink. Her stomach whined at the liquid heat it slid into her, so she _drank slowly_.

“Is this a _personal quest_ or a _conscientious_ one?” She further probes. Standing her drink down and turning to look at her _very devious_ friend.

“Call it, a…. _reaffirming, sort_ of mercy, exercise. For a _very dear_ woman, who, I think, has had her self-worth and confidence _slandered_ by someone who _really doesn’t_ deserve her.” He speaks honestly. She smiles at his benevolence.

“ _Confession_ time?” Sid asks him as she stands down her glass.

“ _Repent_ , Dear child.” Poe tells her eagerly. Shuffling closer in his chair, turning his body to face her. _Wanting to hear_.

She lets out a heavy sigh before she speaks. “Me and Hux, hadn’t had sex. In _nine months_.” She reveals. Poe’s eyebrows shot up his forehead.

“ _Ouch_.” He confides.

“And I didn’t think _he could… alright_ , I know what I am about to say sounds, about _as naïve_ as it gets, but, I didn’t think there was _any way_ he could be _cheating_. The thought _never even crossed_ my mind…” She gets out. _Because that little confession had been sat on her chest, cackling at her ever since she’d found out._

“Sugar. That just goes to show you _were in love.”_ Poe states.

“ _Or_ , I was an idiot.” She offers.

“You shouldn’t let them make you feel like you were duped. They were the ones doing _the bad_ thing. If anyone gets to feel _wrong here, darlin’_ , it should be them. _Not you.”_ He points out angrily, before diving back into his cocktail glass.

“Seeings as its ‘ _yes’_ night. Can I talk _very unflatteringly_ about _your ex-man?”_ He asks.

Sid grins. And takes great delight in purring a ‘ _Yes.’_ At him.

“How did you _not slap_ the guy today for what _he said_ to you…” Poe asks with a confused expression.

“He was _bruised_ enough for my liking.” Sid smiles, and then giggles heartily. She was swaying dangerously close to tipsy now. Her hand shaking with mirth as she lowered her lips to the rim of her glass before her.

“ _Who_ beat him up?” Poe asks her, expecting an answer.

“ _Confidential._ ” Sid holds out with a smirk between sips. Poe narrows his eyes, and sees she wasn’t about to give it up.

“When you said _that thing_ about Kylo making _you cum_ I honest to god thought my sides would split…” He chuckles.

“ _Oh, that_ , you heard?” Sid exclaims, standing her drink down with a thud.

“ _How good_ was he? I mean after a nine month hiatus from sex I imagine it was… _incendiary._ ” He tries to dig.

Sid side eyes him.

“ _Absolutely no_ comment.”

She downs the last few dregs of the cocktail and winced as it slid like a spiking punch down her throat. She slides the glass away and _prays to god_ Poe let her _eat_ something else before _enforcing anymore_ booze on her.

“ _It’s nice_ you’ve got someone _to flirt with_. Hux always seemed so, _awkward_ , at affection. He kept you at an arm’s length _. Sugar_. It always seemed to _be you_ were infatuated with him, and he was, _cold, about_ his regard toward you.” Poe tells her.

Sid smiles in recollection. Nodding.

“ _That’s Hux_. He’s always been, _tense, almost uptight,_ when it comes to love. I grew used to it after _fifteen_ years. It became _my normal_ that the only PDA he’d Indulge in was holding my hand, or kissing my cheek…” She explains. One elbow leaning on the bar, holding up her chin as she spoke. Her finger twirling a nervous circle around the rim of the glass.

Poe can see, though she was brushing the man off, there was _some sadness_ in her recollection. _Perhaps some regret and some glimmers of pain still, and he didn’t blame the poor kid…_

“Then here’s to scary new adventures. And may your _next guy_ be a sex crazed lunatic who _can’t keep_ his hands _off you_ at any opportunity.” He toasts, raising his empty glass toward her.

_She raised a brow… That did sound nice…_

_“Here’s_ to hoping _.”_ Sid smiles, as they clinked empty glasses.

“To true happiness, and _sex.”_ Poe cheers.

“True happiness, _and sex_.” Sid repeats. Before she examines her glass.

 _“Isn’t_ there supposed to be booze in these?” Sid asks, pointing to the martini glasses. Sat stark and empty.

“Thought you’d _never ask_ …” Poe beams. But Sid lays her hand on his arm and Orders instead.

“Two _‘sex on the beach’_ , please…” She smiles to the obedient barkeep.

“I _like you,_ divorced.” Poe grins. Sid scoffs.

“So I was a _frightful, boring old_ bag when I was married?” She asks him. Not requiring an answer. She reaches over and playfully slaps his lapel. He laughs along with her.

 _“Admit it,_ you’re loving ‘ _Yes’_ night…” He smirks

“ _’Yes’_ night is hard on _my liver_. _You’ll be_ carrying me home, Dameron…” She says as she accepts her next cocktail as the barman slid it across to her. He’d given her extra cherries again. Which, of course, Poe grumped at.

But his smile _tugged wide_ when he watched the reflection of the bar in front of them.

“I don’t think it’ll _be, m_ e, whose carrying you home, _Sugar…_ ” He smiles in a sleazy way. Sipping on his drink with all _the suave_ of a Grecian god. Sid frowns, sipping.

 _“Beg your_ pardon?” She asks. When she feels the air shift behind her, a warm wall of cologne drifting over her shoulder.

_She knew that scent… the scent she could associate with the hottest pleasures imaginable…_

“Divorce sure _looks good_ on you, Doll.” Came a sultry, deep, dark voice from behind them.

She sends her gulp of her drink down her throat _with a violent thud_ to its final resting place. She twists around and sees that his huge, muscular form is crowded into the space behind her, squeezing into the space just vacated beside her at the bar. He eased onto the seat next to her, tonight wearing a black suit, white shirt, and _those boots_ he seemed _so_ attached too. His hair was much calmer than when she saw it last. Styled and tousled in a carefree way on his head. Still bore that goatee and that scruff on his jaw. He bent one knee up on the stool, the other thing stretched out before her, leaning close to her.

When he walked in from the cold outside, and scanned the bar for the sign of her. _He doesn’t mind declaring he had to do a double take once he found her_. It was _the hair_ he noticed first. The shoulder length chestnut auburn had gone, replaces with an edgy, short cut of curls. He could see the nape of her neck as she laughed, and drank with her friend. When she turned her head, he saw a shimmer of silver in her ear. His eyes remained fixed, _enchanted_ , with the sight of her as he made his way across to the bar. Eyeing carefully those glorious curves bared elegantly as she sat with her legs crossed, her back to him _, laughing, smiling, happy. How was it that even seeing her smile could improve his mood?_

She looks down at her drink, smiles, _and blushes, he smirks as he watches her nervously tuck a strand of short curled hair back behind her ear._

“Fancy _seeing you_ here..” She beams ironically.

“Your _friend_ , slash ex-employee, called me. Told me _you’d be here_ tonight.” He smiles, his grin growing as he plunged his eyes into hers.

She turned around to look to Poe, but discovered nothing but an empty bar stool, and his half-drunk drink. Glancing across the restaurant, she saw he was _busy charming_ the hostess at her stand. Leaning over it, gently brushing his thumb across her blushing cheek. When he turned and caught Sid looking, his way, _glaring_ , at _the obvious_ set up, he did nothing but salute across at her with a cheeky wink, mouthing the word “ _Yes._ ” Across at her.

She tilts her head and glares, scoffing laughter. Before she turned back to Kylo. She bit her lip. _Suddenly pleased Poe had played cupid._

“You came…” She smiles, or asks, meeting that russet-amber gaze. _She was holding back the giddiness of his being here for her, that was buzzing away at her stomach like white static._

“Yes, _I did_ , Doll.” He smirks back seriously.

“I’d figured we’d need _to toast_ to your recent separation. _Very recent_ , from what I hear.” He explains.

“Poe filled you in, _did he_?” She asks with raised brows, sipping her fruity drink. When she stands it down, his eyes were drawn to the, new, sight of a black inked flower on her right forearm. He shuffles his stool closer and reaches one, _big, gentle_ hand over. Sliding one hand under her elbow, his thumb ghosting softly over the tattoo.

“Nice ink.” He smiles, a smile splitting his lips. She smiles, feeling his swiping touch raise goosebumps on her skin. Her lips gape and when she looks up, _my god, he was very close… and still heart-stoppingly handsome._

“I-o- _oh._ ” She blushes again. She’d never blushed so much in all her life.

She gets comfy, _quite liking_ the way his hand felt touching her skin. His thumb still rubbing over the edges of the outer lines of the petals. _It was still a little reddened, sore, he imagines. He’d be gentle_.

“It’s a-uh, it’s a _Jasmine Gardenia_ …" She explains, wetting her lips. They were sat so close now, that his knees brushed into the back of her hips. His thumb stops his careful exploration and he untucks his hand from under her elbow. _He was so close he could smell her great perfume reeling off her hot skin._

“Like _the ones_ Billie Holiday used to wear in her hair…” He states, smiling, withdrawing his hands from her. However his _very close_ proximity he didn’t change. _She liked that he didn’t._

He watched her smile, grow wide. _“Exactly.”_ She beams. “ _I adore her_. She could just _, absolutely…ugh_.” She sighs in content. He could see she was a true fan.

“She’d just… _move you_.” He speaks seriously. Sid nods.

 _She couldn’t believe this gorgeous, big, muscled tattoo biker was sat here gushing along with her about Lady Day_. _Hux and her never aligned with the same interests like that…_

“I adore her. Her voice is _just, ethereal_. Me and my Aunt _both love her_. On the _very rare_ occasions she used to sing me to sleep as a girl, she’d _always_ sing April in Paris…” Sid smiles in happy memory.

“ _So._ What cocktail may _I treat_ you too?” He asks, turning and scanning a casual eye over the bar.

“ _Anything_ , but another _leg-spreader_...” Sid bemoans.

He turns back to her, smiles sexily, and raises a brow. _That move alone has her heart leaping up her throat…_

“ _Don’t_ ask.” She sighs with a smile. But is barely able to hide her laugh behind her hand when he orders then both a _Tight Snatch_.

 

 

 

~

 

 

They stayed at the bar, _for hours._

The room around them seemed to melt away. It was just them. Sat on the bar stools, laughing, flirting and drinking their dirty named cocktails. They seemed to have been talking since time began. And she’d never been _more riveted_ In conversation with a guy. They learnt about one another’s lives. She told him about her childhood in Paris, and Joséphine, Victoire. And even _Newt_. And he told her about his life.

He’d grown up in New York, been here _all his life_. His Mother was a very famous, powerful Democratic Senator, his Father a successful businessman overseas. And he told her about the bane of his existence. Ben and Matt. His brothers. Ben was a rising star of wall street. A total womaniser and world class idiot. Matty, a dorky blonde, was a technology major doing his masters at NYU. He also lived in a two storey loft apartment in the upper west too. He was _devoted_ to his job owning, and running the club, which he inherited from the old man he used to work for. He had been a bartender in college. Skipped final year to join the army. Served two tours in Afghanistan, before being discharged with a broken sternum. He worked nights, and slept in the day. And he had a Dalmatian called Orbit. _It was so much fun getting to know him, she didn’t want the night to end…_

 _“So_. As an only child slash orphan. I have to know… How _was it_ growing up with two brothers?” She asks

“Crowded.” He tells her with a grin, biting the olive off his cocktail stick. “I moved out to get some much _sought after_ space.” He accepts.

“I can imagine it was _never boring…”_ She tells as she sups back the, _very well shaken_ , martini.

“From what you’ve _told me_ of that Aunt of yours, she doesn’t exactly _sound dull_ …” He compliments. Sid had indulged him a story of how Josephine had once caused _a nationwide_ scandal for having a _brief affair_ with the French Prime Minister back in the 60’s.

“Ben was usually getting in trouble for _growing_ weed, or _smoking_ weed, or _selling_ weed and when he wasn’t he was usually at a _keg party_ with his tongue shoved down the throat of one of his _many girlfriends_. Matt was a keen comic book artist who loved computers, tech and building circuit boards. And I usually had my head in _a book_ or my studies, for most of my teen years.” He explains as he sips his dry martini. _When in Harrys, a martini was a must, he’d purred as he bought them both one earlier._

 _“Funny_. When I look at you, my first impression isn’t of a _studious, academically driven, hardworking_ college boy…” She tells him.

“Never _judge a book_ by its cover, Doll.” He tells her. Leaning close, their hands brushed against where hers was resting on the bar. His pinky finger brushing over the side of hers, _almost_ entwining _. She can feel the cool of his silver rings set her skin sparking._

“I made that mistake with you once. _I won’t_ repeat it.” She assures him. He nods gladly.

“Good.” He purrs. Fully entwining their hands now, his thumb stroking over her knuckles _. Dear lord, that made her spine shiver._ She holds his hand back.

 _There it was again_. The hot air between them _charged, stiff_ , with electric energy. Nipping at her skin with _erotic awareness_ of all that this big, powerful man _could do to her._

_It may have just been the booze making her blood sluggish and hazy, but when they were sat so close, she really wanted to press herself against that God-given body, tangle her hands deep in his dark hair, and kiss him senseless._

“Can I _ask, Kylo._.” She begins, her breath a husky whisper. He reaches over and sweeps back a wisp of hair off her blushing hot cheek.

“Do you- maybe, want to, go _on a date,_ with me, sometime…” She dares bravely.

“Tell me. What exactly _is this_ we’re doing _right now, Doll?”_ He asks her with a friendly grin.

“Friendly _drinks?_ ” She assumes in a breathy whisper. His hand that had tucked hair off her face, now slides down and cups the right side of her neck. Her heart was hammering, her breath was shallow. _She was two seconds away from melting into a puddle right here on her bar stool._

“I don’t know about you, Baby. But I don’t usually _do this_ to my friends…” He tells her in _a hot_ rasp.

Because then he leans forwards and softly presses those plush lips against her, tentatively feeling her respond. _Slowly,_ _she simply melts into him._ She gasps into his mouth, and then she moans. The sound wracks pure pleasure and yearning to shoot through his big chest. _She was awestruck_. He was stealing away all her rationality, especially when his free hand pressed his hot palm through her jumpsuit, to cover her hip in a way _she adored_. Her hand seeks for the nape of his neck and twines through his hair, and when she feels his tongue touch _lightly_ to her lower lip. She feels him pull back and smirk a sharp smile against their kiss _. Her heart leapt around her rib cage like a mad thing._

“ _Date_ me?” Kylo asks when he pulls back just for a second, smiling a toothy grin against her mouth trailing his hand through the back of her new short, _red_ , hair that _he loved_. They are both panting, and hot. _He was three seconds from ushering her into the restroom and fucking her raw again._

 _“Hey_ , I asked _you first_ …” She points out, sliding her hands over his shoulders.

 _“Baby_. We’ve _already fucked_. Isn’t this just a waste of both our time, us _not having hot, amazing sex?”_ He asks.

“You make _a very excellent_ point…” She moans with a smile.

She _yanks_ him close and crushes their lips together again _. He tasted like vodka and peppermints_. _He growled into the kiss_. And she _devours_ his lips. His hands raking down to rest of the small of her back, in that _gorgeous curving dip_ as she leaned forwards to embrace him once more.

Across the bar, unbeknown to the two enraptured lovers. A very _bruised_ and _battered_ Armitage Hux was gathered with a table of business associates. All of whom couldn’t understand why he kept glaring at the bar _so much._ As he walked back from the restroom, he passed the hostess’s stand, and saw a familiar figure, his _ex-wife’s_ colleague, Poe, leant against it, flirting up a storm with the woman there. He didn’t realise he had stopped to glare angrily at the sight of Kylo Ren with _his Sid_ strung around his neck, and that _oafs big_  paws _dangerously_ close to her ass. Poe looks across and catches sight of Hux. And the suave Latina man simply shrugged and _winked_ at the guy.

Hux stormed back to his table in a _very foul_ mood.

 

 

~

 


	9. Willing & Able

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written to the song Willing & Able by Disclosure & Kwabs from their Caracal Album. OH! and I forgot to mention, this whole fic was actually modelled after a very sexy song by Wynter Gordon. I'll leave you to guess the title if you can.... (hint: story title) 
> 
> Plus, I love the ambiguity of it. Who is the Renegade? is it Sid? Hux? Kylo? I'll leave you to make up your own minds on that. let me know who you think it is. love you lovely dirty kylo people all infinitely. x (lol, i'm trash too, it's ok, theres no judgement here)
> 
> Enjoy the S M U T in the chapter 10 <3

 

 

After their _delicious_ rendezvous at the bar, Kylo was a gentleman enough to see her home. He gave her a perfectly wicked grin and led her outside the bar, to where his sleek black and silver _beast_ of a Harley Davidson stood awaiting them. She laughed as he pulled out a leather jacket from one of the side bags. Shrugged it on, and approached her with a helmet, he clipped the strap under her chin and teased her with the sinful look in his eyes as he smirked _‘I promised you a ride, now didn’t I, Doll?’_

She climbed on after him as the beast under them roared to life. She looped her hands around that broad waist of his, and they took off. She’d never had a more, exhilarating or dangerous experience. _That wasn’t strictly limited to the bike ride, but rather, she thought, the man who she had her arms around._

They _flew through_ the dark, way-past-midnight streets of New York. She had expected to feel nervous about this perilous lift home, yet, snuggled _so tightly_ to Kylo. Her face nuzzled into the back of his shoulder. She didn’t feel the cold nip of the night air, or the danger as they swerved and glided through traffic. Past blaring cabs and, bars all still lit up with merriment and light that shone like beacons in the dark. She felt _oddly safe_. She smiles to herself as she catches a scent of his cologne woven in the raven mane that was swirled and tossed about in the breeze.

She closes her eyes and squeezes her hands about him _a little_ tighter. Feeling the heat of him starting to emanate through his leather jacket and onto her forearms. It was a quiet stretch when they pulled near her street, when he glances briefly over his shoulder, and smiles gently at the sight of her behind him. He’d felt distinctly warm the second she hugged him tight. _Never mind they’d spent most of the night kissing and flirting, every touch, no matter how small, drove him wild._

He turns onto her street and slows down as he scans for her address. It was a pretty gorgeous area, he had to admit. The tall, handsome brownstones flanking either side of the street, arced and presided over by evergreen trees on the sidewalk that shuddered in the cold autumn air. He can just see moonlight chipping through the gaps in the leaves, leaving speckles of light on the road. He comes to a stop near the end of the street, easing the bike into a space out front of her place. He idles for a second as he kicks out the footrest, and then he kills the _violent roar_ of the engine.

He looks up into the house before him, the bay window overlooking the street lit with a half honey gold light. He then turns back as she slides her arms off him and lands her feet on the ground. He heard the dainty clack of her heels hitting the tarmac. He stays straddling his bike, reaching round his hand to hold her steady as she got off. _Her thighs were trembling as she stood_ , unbuckling his helmet and passing it back over to him, ruffling a hand back through her mussed hair.

 _He looks like a perfect picture of a daring man._ Sat there straddling that powerful bike. Black leather, those tattoos scrawling up his pale neck. Those thick thighs and broad shoulders are  _the most_ gorgeous sight to her. He looks like the protagonist of a bodice ripping novel. He takes the helmet from her grasp and seats it on one thigh. _He looked like the perfect picture of a man all women were cautioned to avoid…_

She steps close, up close to the bike, her thighs pressed into his leg. She admires his face as she cards one hand back through his hair that had been made wild by the fact he hadn’t worn a helmet on the way back. Sitting high on his cheekbones is a _kiss of pink_ from the cold air. Which is cool against her hot palm as she cups his jaw in her hand.

He just breathes as he watches her, and when she leans in to kiss him, he shuts his eyes and squeezes one thick arm around her back and tugs her into a crushing embrace. The scent of cold leather and cologne fills her senses as he makes her shamefully flushed and aroused with his kiss. When they pull apart after a _long, indulgent_ kiss, he nudges that aquiline nose into hers, smiling as he clutches her close, and they savour each other like randy teens who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. As if they were both wary of the rap on the window from an annoyed parent watching down over them as they made out in the street.

She has a feeling Kylo won’t judge her for the forward words that come tumbling out of her mouth in a _hot, stimulated_ , whisper…

“Would you like to _come in_?” She dares.

“More _than anything_ …” He answers quickly, that broad hand travelling her spine to squeeze her ass. She can feel however, there was a ‘but’ lingering on his lips.

“And if I didn’t have _such_ an early meeting tomorrow at the club. Rest safely assured, Doll, we’d be in that house _right_ now. And _I’d already_ have my mouth _buried_ in that _sweet pussy of yours…”_ He purrs at her casually.

She bites her lip and smiles, her cheeks heating. _Even when letting her down gently he was still randy as a bull._

“I’m free _tomorrow_ night.” He tells her with a grin, his thumb stroking up over her lower back where it was still squeezing her close in _its python_ grip.

“Come over.” She invites him. “I’ll cook…Say, _8?_ ” She offers with a smile. Still tangling her hands through that long hair. He chuckles at her eagerness… _But judging by the way he was fast falling deeply in lust and love with her, and had the beginnings of a raging hard on in his trousers, he couldn’t be described as reluctant either…_

“I’ll be here. _Wild dogs couldn’t keep me away from you,_ Sid, baby _.”_ He flirts. And when he pulls her in for another kiss, she _whimpers_ at the nip he gave to her lower lip. She crosses her arms over his shoulders, swaying into him. _Giddy off him and his caresses_. A _girly, blushing, thrill_ , shoots through her when both his hands seek south and cup her ass, _squeezing, and pulling her_ onto him. They both heard his helmet clatter to the ground below _. Neither of them cared very much. Not when their lips were on each other’s._

She can feel the hardness of him between his hips as they embraced, and it makes her shiver in pure want for him. Her blood thronging hot through her veins. _Every touch_ sparking pleasure on her skin. _She’d never had someone who could do this to her before… She’d never felt this way kissing any man. Possibly Hux when they first dated, but that was so long ago, and she’s certain she’s never felt this intensely adored, or lusted after._

She reluctantly pulls away, lest she straddle him on that _damn bike_ and re-resume their intimacies right here in the _street._ Her hand to his jaw as she did pull back, breaking away with a contented sigh, she bites her lower lip and smiles up at this man.

“I think I’m _growing addicted_ to kissing you, Kylo Ren…” She smiles when she peers up at him.

“I’ve been infatuated with you from _the second_ I first saw you, Sidney Rocher.” He echoes back. _Only then he’d known the agony that her being married to another man had caused him. Now? He was positively drunk off the thought he could possibly be a contender to love this woman…_

“Thanks for the _ride_ …” She beams, sliding her hands off him, leaning back fully onto her feet where she had been on _her tiptoes_ in his arms to kiss him. She steps away and up onto the sidewalk. He watches that speckled moonlight pass over her figure. Those jewelled heels she wore sparkling in the dim light, her earrings and hair swaying in the night air. He gets a tantalising scent of her perfume as she moved away. Notes of Jasmine, roses grenadine, and the musk of cedar _delicately danced_ across to him from the air and embrace they just shared…

_After that time In his office, he’d lifted his shirt off the floor to put it back on, and there, on the collar of his shirt, he caught a familiar scent. He brought it up to his nose and inhaled deep, eyes closed, savouring the trace of her perfume that somehow infused there on his clothes. It was intoxicating, and it made him smile sadly in memory of what they’d shared._

_“Always available_ should you ever need a ride. _Babydoll._..” He flirts back. That sultry wink of his telling her he _wasn’t talking_ about the bike in _any form whatsoever._

She tears her eyes from him, and starts up the steps to home. Taking out her key. Newt barks from inside, his little head popping up in the bay window to see whom the intruder was. She just zips her clutch back up, when she spins to face him to wave goodnight.

She jumps with fright when that _big body slams_ into her, one hand cups her neck and he presses her against the side of her porch and gives her a kiss to _drive her insane._ She almost _squeals_ into his mouth with his surprise attack. _No slight thought is given to how heavy she might be_. His arms circle her small waist and he squeezes her tight, dragging her up, _lifting her_ , into the air as he kisses her. _He was drinking her in as if he’d never see her again._ His lips hot and urgent against her own, his hunger for her, so very palphable. Where he’s lifted her, one shoe slides off her foot, her toes _curling_ from _the sheer pleasure of the kiss…_

“ _Oh, Kylo…”_ She shivers, panting when they pull apart.

“I _really am sorry_ I can’t come in tonight, _Doll._. And I want you to know I’m _really not_ offering a lame- ass excuse not to _be fucking you_ tonight…” He purrs. Raking a big hand through her hair. Cupping her head.

After years of Hux brushing her off with lame effortless excuses, this big man was kissing her _like his world was going to end,_ _and she knew why_. He was making sure to put a considerable distance between his behaviour and that of a man who falsely claimed to love her. _There was no spare inch of dishonest feelings in Kylo._

_He couldn’t have this beautiful woman going to bed tonight feeling like she wasn’t wanted and adored…_

“I _know_.” She soothes. She holds him close, feeling his face slanting into the crook of her warm neck as he inhaled _her deep_ , and stroked her hair.

_God, she always smelled so fantastic. There weren’t many things on this earth that made him feeble. But she makes his knees weak._

She smiles as she hugs him. He was so big, and strong, and here he was kissing her lips off _just to prove_ he was _into her._ Its both so sweet and heartening that _she beams_ with giddiness and joy.

“Where’ve _you been all my life_?” She coos as she strokes his shoulders. He chuckles, a tint of pink rising on his cheeks. _And now he was blushing too, dear god, he’d kill her soon…_

“If I _had to_ wait thirty two years to be able to meet you. Then _it’s worth_ every second to me.” He assures her.

And with _one_ more _sweet kiss_ to her lips, he un-cups her head, and slides away.

“Goodnight, Doll.” He smiles.

Before turning away and bounding down her front steps with those long, thick legs, and she watches him re-straddle his bike, clipping his helmet on. She opens her door and stays wedged in the gap of it, watching him start that monster up between his thighs again. It thundered to life. Roaring to life as he kicked up the stand and smiles her way before he leans forwards, turns the handlebars, and pulls slowly away.

She watches him glide away out of sight until that bellowing bike sound fades into the distant rumble of late night traffic. Butterflies fizz about her giddy stomach, making her feel restless, and _every inch_ like a besotted girl starting to _fall in love_.

 

 

~

 

Sid spent the next morning _floating on a cloud_. She swore to god she woke up _smiling_. She embarked on her day with a spring in her step. She wasn’t at the gallery. She left work _entirely_ in Poe’s hands. She was having a _day to herself_ to get ready for her _much anticipated_ date.

She breezed her way to her local market. Wrapped up warm in her bright red pea coat. Her scarf keeping her cosy. _It was amazing how the kisses of a good man could lift ones mood._ She walks past stalls selling big, fat beautiful pumpkins ready for Halloween soon. The autumnal chill in the air burning at her pale cheeks and nipping at her ears. Golden leaves crunched under her boots, and the city around her smelt like chilly air, fresh rain that had tipped it down the night before, and warm caramel coffee scent that poured out the doors of ever hipster coffee shop she passed.

 _It was such a lovely Autumn. Her favourite season. And she was pretty damn sure she was falling in love with a big, beautiful, wonderful man. She was happy_.

She picked up the phone to ring Poe as she walked along. Passing the window of an independent bakery. The shop front crammed with cakes, meringues, pies, slabs of brownies and muffins the size of her fist. Her mouth waters for one, but she won’t be deterred from her quest. She has to fetch her supplies for dinner tonight. She would treat Kylo to a sumptuously great French dish she’d mastered to _perfection._ A roast poussin, and a recipe of her mother’s, a bitter chocolate and cherry clafoutis.

Though knowing him, he’d purr his mouth was watering for dessert of _an entirely different kind… And lord does that thought sends herds of butterflies swarming through her._

“You’re _alive?”_ Poe asked with surprise as he picked up the phone. She can hear the bustling echo about him of the clatter of people, and the chatter of voices drift up to the galleries high ceiling. She could hear the hired help busy in the background.

“And _why wouldn’t I_ be?” Sid asks. _Ok sure_ , her head stung a bit when she woke up from the potent cocktails she’d pounded back last night. But _other_ than that, her mood _was all sunshine_.

There was a shuffle on the other end, as Poe clamped the phone between his ear and shoulder. Sid knew him well enough to know he was peering down at his watch.

“ _Its only_ 11am. I still expected you to be _rolling around naked in_ bed with a great big, hulking, tattooed guy.” He smirks down the phone. “The way you two _were going at it_ at the bar last night, I expected you two to _throw down_ and have _at it_ right there on _that counter.”_ He grins.

“Charming.” Sid growls to him. “He gave me _a lift home_ , we kissed goodnight. And that _is as far_ as we went.” She told him. Waving her thanks at a car that slowed down for her and she bounded across the street. Skipping up the curb opposite.

“You _disappoint_ me.” Poe clucked down the phone as only a wingman could. “Here I was expecting _every raunchy_ detail.”

“In your dreams, Dameron.” She laughs at him. Though she can’t resist holding out on her _happy secret_.

“Though, I will say he’s coming _over tonight_ , and I’m cooking _him dinner_ …” She purrs down the phone.

She walks into the cute little market store just around the corner from her Aunt’s house. It too was an independent store. _Expensive, but she was going all out._ A butcher, a baker and a market all mashed into one. Restored from an old 1880’s era style bar. The windows are still scrawled with old Edwardian print advertising their goods, the floor is black and white pointed tile, and the shelves are all mismatched and higgledy. It was a _perfect foodie haven_. She walks over to the towering baskets of fresh fruit, and plucks an orange off the top of the fruit pyramid, sighing in content as she picks up and sniffs the fragrant bright, fresh skin of the _gorgeous fat_ oranges they had.

“ _Oh_ , you’re seducing him with food, _very clever._ Men love that.” He tells her honestly. “Put on a little _cute_ apron, buy some _pearls_ , and you’re _the ultimate_ little housewife…” He coo’s. The feminist part of her _riled a little_ at that comment.

“I’ve _been_ the ultimate little housewife.” She reminds him with a growl. “And look _how far_ that loyalty and _love_ got me…. You know, _by this_ point, I’m just ready to enjoy a night with a man I like who hasn’t _lied to my face_ for three years.” She smiles brightly. “And besides. I enjoy cooking…. It _relaxes me_ …” She tells him honestly. Chucking two punnets of sleek, juicy, dark crimson cherries in her basket that sat in the crook of her elbow.

“Tell _him that_. Wear something slutty and he’ll _be all over_ you before you’ve even _opened the wine…”_ He assures her. She frowns.

“What have _my culinary skills_ to do with seduction?” She asks.

“Sugar. I’ve _been around_ when you’re in the kitchen, and _my god_ , _you cook damn good_. If you dress up sexy and tell a man you want him. That is like _… a fantasy come to life_ , in every guys code.” He tells her as if he was passing along a sacred secret.

“There’s _a code?”_ She asks with hilarity. “What _is this code?_ _Big tits? Blonde hair? Legs like a giraffes?”_ She asks, looking down at her curves with a note of disappointment. “I _have none_ of those attributes…” she says, before doing a double take at her breasts under her coat and jumper. “ _Except maybe_ for the _tit_ s thing. My girls are _perfectly presentable_.” She defends. Listening to Poe chuckle.

“I’m not talking _about that,_ And you know you’re _a curvy goddess_ , Sugar.” He compliments. “I mean that _old saying_ … The saying I’m _pretty positive_ dates back to _days of yore_.” He begins. _“Chef_ in the kitchen _, Lady_ in the streets, _freak_ in the sheets.” He charms.

“That _cannot be_ guy code.” She laments. _Did men evolve into nothing but purely horny, dumb organisms around domestically capable, good looking women?_

“Put on one _of those_ pencil dresses of yours _you love_. _Cook him_ dinner. You will _get laid_. I _guarantee it.”_ He pledges. Sitting back at his desk, leaning suavely in his chair. Making his bold prediction.

“How’s the _gallery going_?” She diverts. Fairly _yelling_ into the phone as she blushed and Changed the subject. _Quickly._ “You set it _on fire_ yet? Is it still standing?” She teases. Walking around to the canned goods aisle.

“It’s going _fine._ ” Poe shushes quickly. Sid heard a muffled yip in the background. And the soft scuffle that, now she was a dog owner, she recognised as _little paws_ on wooden floors. And a _very canine_ form of panting. _She narrows_ her eyes as she lingers near the fresh herbs. Fiddling idly with a fresh rosemary plant.

“BB had better not destroy any sculptures with _urinary_ intent this time, Poe.” She warns. “If he _does..._ ” She threatens.

_Honestly, she takes one day off and the whole place goes to pot…_

“How the _f-_..” He asks.

“I’m omnipresent _and_ omnipotent when it comes to _my gallery_.” She lets him know. _He sighs_. Grinding his teeth. _The woman had dog ears…_

“It’s just _for today_. And _look_ , I promise I’m keeping him under lock and key in my office.” He abides. She hums a somewhat pleased affirmative.

“ _So, look_ Sugar I gotta go. They need me to direct the frames to their spots…” He tells her, his voice muffled again as he speaks to someone else in the room.

“Email or ring with _any_ problems. I’m a cab ride away if _you need_ me…” She frets. She _can hear_ his smile.

“I am _not_ tugging you away from your date evening for love, nor money. And I _will not_ phone you. Even if _I’m trapped_ suffocating and this building was on fire and yours is the _only_ number my oxygen starved brain can remember. I still won’t call.” He relents.

She smiles.

“ _Now_. I’m your _wingman_ , _sugar._ Now it is my duty to tell you to go look hot as hell. Knock his socks off with your cooking. And  _go ride that_ man’s dic-“

Sid _hangs up_ on him.

 

 

 

~

 

 

 


	10. Never Get Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, I'm sorry its late! and on a different chapter as I said I'd add it to the end of chapter 9. But I think its just too long to add on the end of that one. So huzzahh, I've reached ten chapters. That's exciting for me. I've got so many more smutuations to happen with these two. And I'll be cheeky and leave a lil spoiler here for the next chapter. (typical morning after fic) and it will involve a certain annoyed Hux turning up to talk to a half naked Sid & finding a half naked Kylo in her house. As was suggested in the comments by the lovely Zoe. (Backed up by Emmy_Lou) Cause i fucking lovveee that idea and I want Sid to have her own back on the bastard! A n y w a y enjoy the Porn! TTFN xxx

 

 

“So, what do _you think?_ Am I trying _too hard?”_ Sid asks to the mirror before her, putting her earrings in as she directed her question to the other person in the room with her.

For tonight, she wanted to watch _the smirk_ spread out on Kylo’s face at her choice of dress. She was making it very plain that she was invested in him. _Wearing that expensive vintage scarlet-wine coloured dress he’d sent her._ It fit perfectly. She didn’t want to guess how he’d known her size _so_ accurately. He looked like a man who didn’t _miss any_ singular detail. It was a divine neckline, baring her shoulders and sloping away into a plunging V shape. _She’d drowned_ her senses in a Jo Malone scented bath earlier. Sat soaking in the tub with a very cold glass of wine. Her skin fragrant and _reeking_ of the expensive products she’d layered on. She was just indulging some finishing touches, rubbing perfume on her wrists, dabbing a bit on her shoulders. She turns about from the mirror in the dressing room and splays her arms wide open, showing the individual sat on her bed, her chosen outfit.

Wine dress, with soft nude stockings and bright red heels. Her hair up, pinned messily, with wisps and curls falling away at her ears and the nape of her neck. She’d put in some dangling square crystals in her lobes. And opted for neutral make-up, with her traditional matte red lipstick. Overall, she looked curvy, sexy, and down to earth, and she felt nervous and excited. (And she _was sure_ these _feet-crushing_ shoes would last all of _five seconds_ before she kicked them off in the kitchen)

Newt sat blinking up at her from his spot on the bed. Wagging his tail as she showed him her outfit.

“Not too _tarty?_ ” She asks the little dog, tilting her head. Hands on her hips as she beamed at him. She’d only had him for a week, _and already_ she’d retained a great source of comfort from talking to him. Newt offered her _a sneeze_ as a response. His ears flipping over as he buried his snout between his two front paws. And stared up at her from his corner of the bed.

“Rude.” She smirks, before she sends a silent prayer to the ceiling, examines her posterior in the mirror, and after a second of scrutinising, she sighs a smile and heads out onto the landing and begins downstairs. Newt scatters off the bed, leaping down and following her. He was her little shadow wherever she went in the house, he _was there_.

By the time she’d reached the bottom of the stairs, she’d _abandoned_ the heels idea. She huffs and kicks them off in the kitchen doorway as she rounds the stairs. Clattering them into the pile, she wanders into her romantically set kitchen for two. She’d dimmed the lights, lit a few small candles sat on a wooden board on the island. She grabs her once started glass of wine earlier and finishes the last little dreg of it. It sat cold, and dry on her tongue. She crouches before the oven and checks on the pair of roast birds she’d placed in there earlier. The skin was beautifully crispy and dotted with herbs and spices. Nestled on a golden bed of carrots, potatoes and shallots. The gorgeous smell of bay leaves, rosemary, garlic and roasted chicken warming the space of the cosy modern kitchen. She smiles, wiping her hands on the small black apron she’d tied around her waist.

Biting her lip she surveys the spotless kitchen, and peering to the through lounge, where earlier she’d lit a fire in the hearth and a couple more candles in there too. On the coffee table, and the windowsill. The whole place looked romantic and warm. She even had a soft crooning Billie Holiday soundtrack drifting lazily through the rooms.

All she needed _now_ , was her _tall, handsome date._

Whilst she waits, she simmers some cherries in a brandy to make a coulis for the boozy chocolate cake she’d made for dessert. She hums along to Billie’s crooning voice as she cooks. Slowly stirring the brandy infused cherries as they bobbed in the pan. She lifts a spoon to her lips and sups as taste of the dark, sweet mixture. She smiles, blowing on it to cool as she feels the heat of it pinken her cheeks. Satisfied she places it down and sets the pan to simmer gently.

She smiles widely when she hears the distant rumbling of a _thunderous bike_ echo out in the street. She turns her attention to the front door, biting her lip in excitement. She dashes into the lounge and checks her appearance in the huge mirror above the mantel. She scrutinises for any smudges of lipstick on teeth or stray hairs drifting in her eyes. Her _heart hammers_ against her chest when she hears his rapping knock come on her front door. She swings around the doorframe and sashays for the door. Seeing his impressive silhouette through the murky etched glass panels.

She opens the door and takes in the source _of all her_ idle thoughts, excitement, and nerves over the past twelve hours. He stands, as impressive and as gorgeous as ever. A deep midnight blue shirt under that leather jacket. Stark black trousers, and surprisingly, a pair of brown Chelsea boots adorn his feet rather than the _usual, scuffed and scratched, biker fare_ he favoured.

As she opened the door, in comes a great gust of cold air, infused with his scent. He grins wider on seeing her. _One dark brow raising perceptively from the dress she had chosen._ His smile stretched into a toothy grin at that.

“Come in, _Stranger._ ” She beams, the scent of his _cologne sharp and strong_ as he passes the threshold.

“Nice _dress, Doll_ …” He purrs, eyeing her up and down. He brings a hand around from his back. Offering her an expensive, _very expensive_ , fine label of of red Bordeaux. She bites her lip as she takes it. Thanking him profusely as she shuts the door in his wake.

“It’s _a 95._ Couldn’t get my hands on a 94 to save _my life._ It’s supposed to be, _very robust_.” He explains as he shrugs off his jacket. Drowning her senses in a gust of peppermint, leather, cold New York air, and turns to obediently hang it up on the coatrack beside them. He catches her raised brows and an impressed smile.

“ _Bartender_ … I remember.” She points at her forehead and then at him. Smiling as she nods her head and gestures to the kitchen. Urging him to come in.

Newt comes pattering through, Charging through to interrogate the newcomer. Kylo smiles and sinks to his knees, the little dog’s tail wagging madly as he lapped up the attention the stranger lavished upon him.

“You must be _Newt_ …” Kylo asks, giving his ears a good scratch. Newt tilts his head in leisure. Tail still whirring with excitement.

“The _one_ and only…” Sid laughs. Watching her dog lap up the attention. Licking Kylo’s offered hand. He chuckles. “He’s a sweet guy. Rescues always are. Just needs _someone willing_ to take _a proper_ chance on em’.” He smiles stroking the dogs wiry back, where he crouched down he peered back up at her with a lazy smile. When he withdrew his hands the little terrier bounded to the lounge and bombed into his favourite blue velvet armchair by the window.

 _“Amen_ to that.” Sid smiles hopefully, leaning against the doorway. They share a second of smiling silence. Before she remembers her hostess manners…

“ _Right. So_. What can I get you to drink?” She asks as she pads into the kitchen.

She pauses in the kitchen doorway as he comes up to her, stopping in front of her. He takes the wine from her hands and places it down on the kitchen counter just inside the door. He crowds her back until she is safely ensconced between the doorframe and his body. He leans in, tilts her chin up with his hand, and kisses her softly on the lips. His mouth invading her own, _tasting_ her tongue. He shudders a _smile of longing_ at the taste of her;

 _Brandy, sweetness and cherries_.

Both hands of his come up to encircle her waist. Successfully keeping her pinned to his front. The kiss growing _hot_ , ploughing lust through both their bloodstreams. Making her cheeks red and her body trembling for him in anticipation. She wants to groan when he pulls away from her lips. _She misses_ those plush lips and his underlying peppermint flavoured kisses. _How could she miss him when he was not a centimetre away from her body?_

“C _herries_ …” He smiles down at her, as a big hand tucks a curl back behind her ear. When his fingertips lightly skimmed against her neck, her uterus does a flip in her abdomen. _Dear god, her neck was her weakest spot alright…_

“And something _else_ …” He leers “Can’t _put my_ finger on it.” He tells her, his hand fully stroking her neck. _“Here_ , let me have another taste...” He grins, diving for her lips again. She smiles into him, chuckling into the kiss as his tongue relocates her lower lip and teases her gently to open for him. She sinks one hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and _sighs_ in _pleasure_. _Her toes curl from the sheer force of his kiss_. When he pulls back again, he licks his lips.

“Brandy?” He guesses. She laughs, her cheeks _hot_ as she remains in his arms, toying with the dark hair that sprung forwards around his ear.

“Cognac.” She supplies his answer. His thumb and forefinger finds a loose wisp of hair and gently plays with it.

“Can I get you _something besides_ a kiss? Wine maybe?” She tries to offer. Swiping away the small smudge of red she stained onto his lips. _He kisses_ the pad of her thumb as she moved to wipe it away.

“Wine sounds _good_.” He smiles, sliding his hands off her and watching her go for the cupboard and pull out two tall wine glasses. He sinks his hands into his pockets and wanders into the kitchen, peering curiously at the décor. His smile goes wide as he surveys the homely space.

“This house is _gorgeous._ ” He compliments. It looked _small_ from the street, but it went back and back, to house a top of the line kitchen, a bright airy dining room added on the back with a big wall of windows, and a garden crammed with spreading trees and neat shrubbery. It instantly felt like a home to him. The candles, the music, the great scent of food warming the air. _And Billie Holiday wailing her blues over the speaker, he smiles._

He comes around the kitchen island behind her as she unscrews a bottle of white for them. The glasses she paces down by him as she wrangles with the corkscrew. “My Aunt doesn’t share that view. She _practically gave it_ to me down the phone when I asked her. I don’t think she _appreciates it_ fully.” Sid smiles, looking up at the old place. “It’s _a great_ house. I just think that past a certain point, Josephine and New York don’t _gel so well_. She can only stand to be here _for a week_ before she’s pining for home. She prefers _Paris_.” She smiles, uncorking the wine she pours a generous amount into each glass. He is stood right by her, those dark eyes _taking her in_ as she spoke. He reaches over and gently takes the glass she offers across to him. They both sip gently, smiling at the other.

“Do _you_ ever miss Paris?” He asks her after she stands down her wine and returns to her stovetop cooking. He lets his eyes trace down from the nape of  her pale neck, down the column of her neck, across her beautiful exposed shoulders. _How could a man who was lucky enough to be married to her ever seek out someone else?_

“I did when we first moved. It was _an agony_ sat in my chest day and night. Leaving home, leaving the city I _loved._ I felt _like choking up_ in tears every time I thought about it…” She explains. Circulating the hot simmering fruit with the big wooden spoon. She starts a little when some slurps over the pans edge and spatters lightly onto her wrist. She reaches for the hanging cloth from the ovens hand rail, and dabs away the spec of sauce on her forearm.

She hears Kylo stand his glass down and come across the kitchen. She was flushed from the ovens heat, but she felt more flushed when he came close to her back. She could feel him towering behind her, feeling the heat of his body and his breath landing coolly on the back of her neck.

She turns away from the oven, swallowing down her nervousness when she looks up to meet his gaze. He reaches for her wrist and turns her hand over so he could see the pale red mark the hot sauce had left on her skin.

“Didn’t _burn yourself_ , did you?” He asks with care.

“No, just being my usual… _clumsy_ , self…” She trails off when he lifts that pale wrist of hers to his mouth and presses a kiss to the hot spot there. Her pulse quickens under his lips. And his eyes meet hers after, and she finds a great deal of _love and want_ furnacing away in them…

“I think you being here in my kitchen, is making _me nervous_ …” She dares to suggest. Smiling so he knows she was teasing.

“I make _you, nervous?”_ He asks somewhat amusedly.

“You show me any man and woman who _shared_ what, _we did,_ and tell me they don’t feel ..” She sighs, biting her lip. “ _Moved_ , by being in the others presence…” She suggests. She was fully aware she was blushing from head to toe.

“Well. It was very _moving_ …” He agrees. Finally indulging in something he’d been wanting to do since he saw her in _that dress_ , tonight. He slowly leans over, and down onto those almost bare shoulders he presses another kiss, then he moves up and _presses another_. _The smell of her fragranced skin makes him close his eyes in pure rapture._

“Come closer. _God, you smell good, doll_.” He purrs near her ear. Inhaling her scent deep as he curled a free hand about her waist and presses them close again, crushing their bodies together sharply. She bites her lip and smiles a breathy moan as he continues his _loving assault_ on her neck.

“You keep _this up_ , we _won’t get_ to dinner…” She smiles, eyes shut, tilting her head back, as his lips come up and she feels _the scrape_ of his teeth as he sucks the innocent flesh under her ear. Her hands were braced either side of the counter behind her in a white knuckled grip. _Her pussy clenching in want for this phenomenal man who could turn her to mush with one kiss. Her lust stirring in her chest._

His hand around the back of her hips, slips down and _deviously_ squeezes her ass, bringing her into him. A small whine breaks her lips when he presses their desperate bodies together. His pelvis grinding close into her abdomen. _God, he was so hard already, just from kissing_. The thick seam of his trousers not even _anywhere close_ to hiding his burgeoning hard on.

“I’d skip to dessert _right fucking_ now, Doll.” He promises with a smirk into her neck. His husky whisper punctuated by a cheeky roll of his hips. A moan shudders through her, as does a sharp flare of arousal, she widens her legs, _just a bit,_ to let his hips sink _deeper_ into her body. Her hand _grabs wildly_ for the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in that dark hair.

“But I have _a sneaky feeling_ we’re going to need to eat something tonight before we get down to _another_ round of _hot sex.”_ He purrs into her ear. His goatee rasping her skin, his breath _hot_. She places her other hand to his firm chest, and she can _feel_ his heart race, and touches gently to his ribs that were expanding and releasing as he panted, “And _I’d be lying_ if I said I didn’t want a taste of what you’ve got cooking that smells _so good_.” He compliments.

She smiles as she runs her hands through that thick, wavy hair. Placing her head to the side of his, her face pressing into the side of his jaw. She could smell the rich, clean and zesty scent of his shampoo woven into his silky tresses. The light spicy fragrance of _that fine cologne_ that lingered on his skin of his neck. She smiles, nuzzling into him.

“Nice _save, Mister...”_  She laughs when they pull apart, righting a curl of dark hair that had flopped forwards over his forehead. She _tucks it back_ where it rightfully belonged. Their hot intimate moment is cut short by the blaring shrill of the oven timer clanging to life. She shuts it off.

“Now _we eat_ …” She pledges stepping to the oven and pulling the door open. The warm, romantic room is then flooded with the gorgeous scent of roasted poultry and herbs.

“I hope you like French Roast Chicken…” She smiles with a gleeful grin as she chucks the oven mitts down and starts to plate up.

“My mouths _watering_ , Doll.” He assures her with a sly grin. _And not just for dinner… His mind filthily adds…_

_Kylo would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t sneak a peek at that ass as she bent down to pull the roasting tray out of the oven._

He made himself useful and refilled their wine glasses. Taking a _big gulp_ out of his. As he’d stated, _they’d both_ need some booze and food in them for the _promising_ events still to come…

 

 

 

~

 

Later, after a _great deal_ more wine, and as they sat at the dining table, lit by the soft honey-gold of candlelight. Their empty dishes strewn before them both. Kylo had dug in and gone back for seconds of _both_ courses.

 _Dear god, he’d nearly lost it when she fed him a cherry from her fingertips._ He took it between his teeth and gave her a _thoroughly erotic_ look. When she absentmindedly licked a smudge of chocolate off her thumb he _almost leapt_ over the table at her.

 _He liked watching her blush as he complimented her cooking._ And nor did he have to fake enthusiasm, he could tell it was a beloved hobby for her, the ways she talked about Paris, and how she learnt to cook in a traditional French-Country style. He’d made her laugh when he told her the only dish he could cook _with surety and confidence,_ was Mexican food. _Only because_ he became close friends with the chef who worked in the kitchen of the bar he tended in college. _Not to boast, but he’d picked up a thing or two,_ he’d grinned.

Much alike the other night at the bar, they sat smiling and talking. And without fully intending too, her hand had reached over and softly brushed against his, and now, they practically sat with entwined hands. Their seats shuffled very close, _so close_ , she could count the moles on his neck. And smattered across his pale cheeks.

“Can I _ask…_ ” She starts, swigging a sip of white wine, letting the sharp flavour of it burst across her tongue. His eyes encourage her onwards, as he gently searches the various blue surrounding her irises.

“Why me?” Sid asks, biting her lip in trepidation. “Not…” She relays quickly. Putting her hands over his firmly. “…that _I’m fishing_ or anything. _I Just_ …” She shakes her head. _“I don’t_ , understand… You could have your pick of _all the_ eligible pretty socialites who grace tabloids every day, _and, you know_ , from what you told me about Ben he’s had women whose fathers ran for government, or who probably _own entire countries_. And you, you know, you, chose _me_.”

He smiles at her, one big hand finding her hip as they sat close.

“May I start by saying that _my_ brother will, _just about, fuck_ anything vaguely feminine with _a wet_ place to put it.” He offers. She splutters into inelegant laughter. “And secondly, I wish to point out, that I  chose you, not because of the tantalising prospect that you were another man’s wife. But, because you were _genuine_.” He tells her.

She looks at him, surprised.

“You came into my office that night _so strong_ , yet _so wracked_ with worry for what your husband had done. You were wholeheartedly honest about your love for him. And when I found out about the way that he’d repaid that frankness. _I lost it_.” He explains.

“Or maybe I just had tunnel vision for you, Sid.” He adds. “You’re so  _fucking sexy.”_ He leers seriously. _She tries not to blush. Fails, though._

“Thankyou.” She offers him. “For seeing me as a whole, when I _felt invisible_ to everyone else.” Sid flatters.

She reaches over and examines the recently healing gashes that sat lacerated to  the centre his right palm. He’d told her earlier with _sincere candour_ that he’d sustained that injury in anger when he saw how Hux hurt her. Smashing that whiskey glass _to dust_ against the side of his desk.

“I thought _the same_ about you. Though I _couldn’t_ say it then.” She tells him, leaning closer. _Referring to the fact he’d called her fucking hot._

“I _could tell_ as much from the way you kissed me when _we fucked_.” Kylo growls lowly, leaning in to meet her shuffling closer.

“Oh, there’s _that ego I love_ …” She purrs sarcastically, her smile very close to his. Their faces and bodies barely inches apart.

“ _Get over_ here, Doll, and I’ll give _you something else_ of mine _you love.”_ He warns.

She doesn’t need telling twice. She leans over, cups the back of his head in her hands, and grants him a solid, forceful kiss. His hands aren’t restless tools either. His hand slithers from her hip to her knee, sliding delicately up her bare thigh, when he got to the inside of her sweetly soft thighs, _he bites_ a growl into her bottom lip.

_Fuck, those were stockings he could feel._

He reaches over _, grabs_ , and _tears_ her out that chair. His hands cup under her ass and hoists her into his arms. He hears her chair clatter back to the floor, but he doesn’t give a _single damn_.

Not fully confident he could make the long trek upstairs to her bed. The lounge was the next best thing. _Sofa. Anywhere he could lay her flat and pound that sweet pussy with his dick again._ But he’s unable to get her there, without _pressing_ her body up against the wall next to the sofa first. Their hands greedily search each other, cupping, grabbing, digging into clothes in fistfuls of hungered touches.

 _It was as if he had amnesia in his kiss._ He had the potent power to make her forget everything she thought she knew. Her thoughts were utterly _dispelled_ from her head when he set about pursuing her like this. with _so_ much _lust, passion and yearning._

A moan breaks through her when he levers apart from kissing her, and sucks, kisses, and _bites_ against her fragrant neck. She openly groans his name, and tangles one hand in his shirt, the other in his hair. Her head thrown back against the wall as he feasted on her neck _. Making her thighs clench and her pussy flutter, yet again, in desperate hunger for him._ When he feels her _nails bite_ into his neck in bliss, he smiles. The sting of nails _always_ spurred him on. _That was the painful reminder he was doing everything right._

He doubled his efforts. Letting her legs go to the ground, he brings one of her thighs to wind round his leg, so he could press his aching groin into her once more. _Just one kiss and his cock was hard and so ready._

He was _giddy_ off her body. He can remember having the exact same feeling of that in his office. _He wants to pound and pound her til she couldn’t cum anymore, then he’d have his head between those thighs drinking in every drop of her pussy he could get_.

He can’t deny them both being _a little bit_ drunk is a massive turn on. Every touch is a _grab, a grasp_ , hot breath and moans spilled from aching lips like hushed secrets. Only their two names exist. Only two their bodies exist. _Only this pleasure is theirs._

His hands find the zipper of her dress, and even though he _really, really,_ wants to rip her out of it. He restrains himself. He gets her out of it and harshly shoves it over those gorgeous hips. His big palms covering every inch and bringing them together when she tangles her hand tighter into his hair, and drags his lips to find hers and _plunges_ them both into another _scorching_ kiss.

He resumes his quest to get her naked when he _finally_ gets that dress pooled at her ankles. He crouches to whip it out from under her feet. As he does, both those massive hands smooth up her shapely calves and up around her fleshy thighs, he digs a grip into her ass and presses his face _squarely_ into her still clothed pussy. She feels his nose and lips nudge into her, _and she trembles_.

He felt his _tongue lap_ a wet spot through the fine lace of her underwear, right above the place where she needed that tongue on her bare skin. One hand of hers was still tangled in her hair, and she can feel his hot panting breath hit her thighs.

“Want me _to eat_ this gorgeous pussy baby?” He asks her, his eyes _piercing_ _hot_ into hers. She bites her lip, _shuddering,_ when she feels him slowly _hook_ his fingers into the lace, and slowly draw them down her legs.

“Kylo…” She groans in a sigh. Stroking his hair in one hand, looking down as he still watched her, his face between her thighs as his tongue tasted her lips once again. She tried to _squeeze_ her legs together as he began to lap and slurp at her _extraordinarily wet_ cunt _with fervour_. Her free hand dug crescents into his shoulder. The other still petting his hair as he ate her.

Pleasure started to coil through her as he latched his mouth to suck on her clit, and brought two of those thick fingers up to slide _deep_ into her tight heat. The wet squelch of her oozing out over his digits makes his cock leap up in his trousers. He savours her beautiful taste. Knowing that, this, was what he had been aching after for days now. _Food had no taste. Colours were dull to him. Nothing was right in the world unless he had his head between her legs, eating her._

“Bet you didn’t know, _Doll._ Last time I _ate you_ like this. I had _the taste_ of _your pussy_ on my lips for _hours after._ All I had to do was keep on _licking my lips_ to get the _taste of you back_. That’s what I intend to do tonight. Eat you until _you scream_ and _gush_  onto  _my lips_. And I can taste _your cum_ in my beard. ” He grunts dirtily.

He could feel her toes curled tight against his shoulder where he hoisted her leg, tilting his leg to get a _better_ angle to pleasure her.

“Take the _fucking_ bra off…” He growls up at her with _little_ patience.

She reaches around and complies. Letting it drop away. He swallows down a mouthful of his own saliva and a generous taste of her pussy. He reaches up and  grasps her nipples, rubbing his thumb over the tightened nub.

“Can’t neglect _those pretty things_ , now can I?” He asks her. His fingers feeling her nipple under his fingers.

“ _Oh,_ you’re _so_ good.” She whines. Her body shivering and wracking. _Sparks of pleasure flaring from her nipples to her clit._ Her head thrown back against the wall as he swirls and sucks, and tantalises her g-spot with _those long_ fingers. She couldn’t put off how quickly he was moving her into orgasm. With the intent suckling on her clit, she knew it wouldn’t be long. Having a sneaky feeling _he_ _knew_ that too.

She wants to whine when he tears away and tugs her with him. She opens her eyes, dazed, her clit throbbing _for more_. She can barely recognise the change of position, before he has them both on her sofa, he spreads himself out on it, and tugs her hips up by his shoulders.

“I want those _lips_ on my face, _riding_ my mouth, Doll.” He tells her urgently. She seems to hesitate for a moment, _She’d never done that position. Not even with Hux. Even still, she was worried her size would hurt him._

She leans forwards, intending to obey. But _not before_ she lets her hand sneak under his waistband and cup the _whole, fat_ length of him under her palm and jerks him for a second. He grits his teeth feeling her palm make his leaking hard-on stiffen even more. Leaking _so much_ at the tip, she spreads the slick desire of him _all over_ his length.

“I want _a taste of you_ first. So greedy wanting _my pussy_ all to yourself.” She sighs, sinking to her knees and undoing his fly, she shoves those dark trousers off his hips. He’d kicked his shoes off long before. She has no trouble wrangling the things off those thick legs. Stroking over the tattoos she found on his calves too. She watched him lean up on his elbows to look at her. _She’d be sure to give him a show…_

She takes him to the back of her throat with _the first_ suck. His hips stutter up into her hands, a violent curse shattering the candle-lit atmosphere, still with some soft jazz number crooning in the corner. She forgot how filthy this mans mouth was once she got her lips about him. Just a string of curses and babble. When he leans up again to watch her, his stomach _flips_ over in his torso. His cheeks _bruised_ with a dark scarlet high up his cheekbones, his forehead looking slightly sheened in sweat.

He squirms and writhes about under her tongue so much, she thinks about _sitting on his face_ just to keep him still… _but not quiet, she loved the sounds she drew from his lips…_

“ _F-fuck_. Jesus. _Babydoll. God, how_ can you _take my cock so well?_ No ones ever _taken it as good_ as you. I want _to fuck_ that sweet mouth until I see _my cum drooling_ out those lips…” He growls in wanting.

She can feel her thighs _trembling with need_ at his _dirty words_. She knows she _needs_ to cum soon. But she wasn’t done with this man and his magnificent thick cock yet. They’d been seducing each other with kisses, touches and conversation all evening. And he could make _her speechless_ when he works his mouth on her, she was simply returning the favour.

 _Plus, she’d never loved blowing a guy so much before_. She loves the taste of his cock. The _power_ it gave her to do this to him. The salt and musk of his precome on her tongue she wants to coax more out of him. She strokes him, twists her wrist, brushed her spare hand over his tight sac. _Oh, how he groaned her name._ The heavy, hot, hard weight of him on her tongue made her salivate. She puts that to her advantage. Opening her mouth she lets her excess saliva dribble out, _thickly drooling onto his cock_ , working more under her fist as she rubs him.

 _That was the final straw where he was concerned_.

He springs up and drags her onto the sofa, facing away from him, he splits her legs and shoves her forwards, her forearms braced on the armrest. She feels his hands on her hips from behind, a warm palm spreading up her back, feeling the shape of her spine, as his mouth speaks by her ear. His hot breath _kissing_ her shoulder _. She bites her lip in arousal when she can smell herself ghosting across on his breath._

She gasps in pleasure when his hand slides around to cup her breast in his hand. His teeth scrape into her neck as he speaks lowly;

“Gonna _pound you_ like this baby.” He promises. “You’re gonna _feel every fucking inch_ and you’re gonna damn _well take_ it, and let me make that pussy _squir_ t over my cock as I _fuck you_. As _punishment_ for not sitting that pretty cunt on my face.” He pledges into her ear. His breath disturbing her hair.

 _“I’ve never,_ _ridden_ , a guys face before…” She gasps out weakly, looking over her shoulder at him, after he pulls her head across to give her _an urgent kiss_. His hand cupping the front of her neck.

He leers wickedly. “That ex-husband of yours really didn’t _know shit_ in bed _, huh? Doll.”_ He smirks _._

_If he was her husband. He’d have wanted her favourite seat in the house to be bouncing on his face, as he fucks his tongue into her and makes her cum pour into his mouth._

“When you’ve finished riding my face _later tonight_. And I’ve finished doing all the other things I’m gonna _do_ to you. You won’t be able to _walk, tomorrow_.” He reassures. She whines in need as she feels him take the heavy length of his cock in hand, and rubs his thick head all over her _slavering pussy_ that they could both feel _dripping_ onto the couch below them. _Her brain flickers to a brief worry about the upholstery…_

_And then he thrusts that, perfect, dick inside her._

She couldn’t remember her own name, let alone the state of _the goddamn settee_. _Was there anything on earth quite as delicious as that first thrust? (ok, an orgasm maybe) but she couldn’t make light of the size of her lovers cock. It truly was perfect._

He seizes her hips in a bruising grip, and begins his pounding in _earnest,_ His hips smack into her ass, and his hand is on her clit, rubbing, forcing _strangled yelps_ out of her mouth as they slam together. He was so deep within her, she felt like he was in her _chest._ Yanking her hips back onto him, bouncing her cunt onto him as he goes hell for leather in pace.

He loved how she moved when he fucked her so strongly like this. In his good opinion, if her body didn’t _bounce,_ he wasn’t _doing her hard enough_. He watched her thighs ripple, his hips smacking jolts through her gorgeous ass. He covers her back with his chest, nipping at her neck, and tantalising one stiff nipple with his fingers. He can see she is trying to muffle her screams on her forearm how she was bent over.

 _“None_ of that…” He commands.

“If you’re gonna make noises with the _way I’m fucking you_ baby. I want to hear _every, single, decibel.”_ He growls. Thrusting harder to punctuate each word.

He hauls her hips back and brings her back flush to his chest, forcing her up onto her knees, as he was on his. Her back arched so he could still work his cock in her tight heat. He can feel the sweat cooling clammy on her body. Slipping down between her breasts, he cups both her tits in his hands as he sucks _more_ bite marks on her neck _to replace_ the ones that had faded after their last fuck.

“Oh, Sid. Can’t get enough of this pretty pussy…” He smiles, and then she feels his lips drop to the juncture of her neck. “Can’t get _enough of you,_ either…” He promises seriously.

“ _Fucking_ hell. I can’t explain what _you do to me_ …” He riles against her ear.

“I’ve _never felt_ this way before about anyone…” She complies in a sigh, he turns her head back to swallow her moans and words in a heated kiss.

They _groan_ and _growl_ onto each other’s lips. He continues his assault on her clit and after a few more undulating thrusts, they both lose themselves into the _heady bliss_ of their orgasms.

She puts her head back on his dewy shoulder, his hips thrusting up into her body, pushing her forwards with each stroke. The hand that wasn’t on her clit, is holding the front of her throat where she threw her head back on him. He finishes fucking her through the trembling aftershocks after what felt like _forever_ … _Slowly_ they both return back down to earth… As it was before, the pleasure seemed to be _so long lasting on both counts._

He gets hard all over again when he pulls out of her and identifies their mingled creamy cum drooling out her pussy. _Stringing_ to his cock as he pulled away. He collapses back on the sofa and pulls her between his legs. Sid felt the wet ooze of them between her thighs. _She didn’t mind_. He succeeded in his mission, as he felt a hot spatter of her wetness down his thigh, indicating she had not _only cum_ , but she’d cum, _damn_ _hard._

He grins to that, and she crawls up over his gargantuan body to place _a kiss_ on those lips _she loved_. He welcomes her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. He folds up one knee and collects her into his chest.

“ _So_.” He speaks up after they both stop panting, laying on each other in the dark, candle lit romantic aura she’d made for them. She gasps when she feels his _cock twitch_ against her lower belly. _Hard again_. _Ready for more_.

 _“Bedroom_ , next?” He leers, folding her into a kiss.

“I can think of _many filthy_ positions I can get this body in on _a big bed_ …” Comes a deep chuckle as he squeezes her ass under one giant hand.

 

 

~


	11. Voyeurs and Phonecalls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know its short! but there is more to come on the end of this one soon. For now, please enjoy ;) its filthyyyyyyyyyy

 

 

She came to when a slanting slope of sunshine burned through her closed eyelids. She screwed her eyes tighter, and shuffled her face deeper into her downy pillow. She groans and blinks open her bleary eyes, raising her head. She blinks and looks across the bedroom to see she hadn’t closed the curtains last night. Rays of early morning light _peeked_ through the greenery of the tips of the tall trees that lined the street outside. She watched birds dip and swoop against the bright blue sky. Soft birdsong shattering the monotony of cars slowly humming along the street.

She was laying on her side, and when she wriggles her toes, stretched her leg and becomes alert, she smiles, eyes still closed, when she feels the warm weight of _a big,_ heavily tattooed arm _flat_ across the dip in her naked waist. Pinning the covers in place. Bringing her into his body, that was curled on his side, _not far_ from her own. She sits further up, twisting over her shoulder to peek at her bed-mate. _And what a sight he was…_

That _handsome_ face relaxed in rest, his hair, wilder than ever before, mussed and tumbled, a dark mess, against the snow white pillow. She lets her eyes drift over his beauty marks, the _small, faintest_ , scar on his forehead and cheek she’d _only just_ noticed. Dark marks and freckles dotted along his partially tattooed neck, that still bore smudges of her _lipstick kisses_ and _hickies_ from last night. Sat, bruising, the juncture of his shoulder. Aswell as a scarlet smudge sat to the corner of _those wonderful_ lips. She tries to shuffle round, but a simple nudge of her hips informs her that there was _no easy_ escape from that _python_ grip of his.

A sharp tingling noise suddenly burst through the air. She looks around sharply when she recognises her chirpy ringtone flutter through the air of the silent bedroom. She twists around almost pressing herself into his chest, levering his arm off her, she looks across and sees that it wasn’t on his bedside either. She scans the floor next, hopefully glancing around. It was just her luck that it sounded like it had been – _scattered hastily_ – to the floor after lights night rampage ( _Suffice to say Kylo was a beast in bed)_ She’d been worried about _breaking_ the bed at one _very, hot, climactic_ point.

She throws off the covers, prickling at the cold that sparked at her nipples and made gooseflesh rise on her skin. _There was nothing else for it._ She crawls sideways across him, her breasts swaying into his chest as she placed both hands near his thigh, bracing over him, she saw her phone almost tucked under the bed. She leans down to get it, effectively _crushing_ her upper body _into his_ torso, which now lay flat back on the mattress. A smile jerked his lips and his hooded eyes peeked open a fraction, to see her _very naked_ ass and hips _swaying around_ in mid-air as she reached for the ringing phone that woke him. _What a lovely sight that was to wake up too…_

Her hands slip and slide on it for a second before she brings it into her grasp.

“If you wanted me to _do you_ again doll, you need only _ask_ …” He smiles dirtily. His morning voice a sinful tone of rich that sounded _deeper, and darker_. It was all _smoke and gravel_.

“It’s _my Aunt_ …” She smiles back as she was still leaning down over him, arms down the side of the bed. Blowing and huffing wisps of messy hair out her face and blushing cheeks as she brought it to her ear to answer.

 _“Hello?_ Joséphine?” She speaks, her voice _sounded odd_ , even _to her_ ears. _Perhaps, that was because she had a thoroughly devious, very wicked, naked man, under her._

She was down on her front now, her tummy pressed to his, she bites her lip as one giant hand of his came up and sunk into a _claw-like_ grip on her ass. She bit back a _squeak_ as he smoothed his palm across her, caressing her. She tries to leverage up onto one hand, still holding the phone, urging backwards onto the bed and off him.

She was in for a surprise when he leans up, loops his broad arms around her waist, and tugs her back onto him. Splitting his legs, and shuffling her ass back into his groin. His chest clung to her back. Hands firmly settled on stroking down over both sides of her ribs. His tache rasps along her naked shoulder as he buries his head in the crook there. Rubbing his nose and lips _into_ her neck, smiling at her scent and the appearance of his bruises still marking her skin. She shivers a smile at his antics, one hand reaching down to pat his solid thigh.

“Mon amour. ‘ _Ow_ are you doing?” Comes her Aunt’s enquiry down the phone. Sid could make out the noise of blaring traffic, and a gentle breeze ripped at the receiver. Her aunt was most likely having lunch in some café somewhere. Glass of wine in hand, and a _ridiculous_ portion of expensive food before her as she gabbed down the phone. Inhaling every now and then on a cigarette in an old fashioned red holder _straight from_ the twenties. Sid could just picture her now. Her greying hair coiffed in that sleek, bouncing bob. Her slim upper body, wrapped up in a fur stole and looking like some _glamazonian_ , older model.

“ _Oh_ I’m...um…” Sid chuckles lightly. “I’m _doing ok_.” She smiles. Biting her lip quickly when Kylo trails both hands over to cup her breasts, teasing her nipples, and biting lightly on her neck with _a smirk_. Her thighs fought to squeeze together due to the way he was making her so.. _aroused. However,_ his wicked mind had _other plans…_

“That ex ‘usband of yours rang me. _Mon Chou_. He wanted to know _where_ you were.” She begins, her tone cold and spiky. “I said I would not tell him even if _I wanted_ too.” She spat. Her voice dark and dangerous. Her tone _very telling_ of her distaste for him.

He hooked his feet around hers, and made it so he caught them and turned outwards, keeping her legs _pinned_ open, entwined with his. His hands snuck down to hold both her hips, keeping her anchored where _he wanted her_. She was splayed _wide open_ for him _. Stuck in his hold_. _Trapped._

“He _did?_ ” Sid asked. Feeling Kylo shuffling about behind her. He laid more kisses on her neck, she tilts her head back, and to the side. _Giving him all the access he desired._ She struggled to keep silent. She really did. _He knew her neck was a spot, if kissed, that made her moan and shiver for him._

_And then comes a sharp nip from his teeth. That’s when she knew she was really doomed…_

She bites back the moan that makes her chest heave as she tries to keep quiet. _Not wanting to let her Aunt know she was two seconds away from crying out his name in the throes of bliss as he slid down and stroked two big fingertips over the hood of her clit._

Unable to _help it,_ her body bucks forwards up into him, seeking _the pleasure_ his hand offers. He smirks openly, _in pride_ , against her neck as he watches her hips buck. Her head throws back more, and a keening gasp uncontrollably sails out her parted lips.

 _“Sidney?”_ Her Aunt asks, confused as to her _outburst_.

“Ugh, _I, uh_. Caught my hand on the… ket _tle…”_ She sighs. Her toes _curling_ , back _arching_ , when he presses two fingers to slide, _deep,_ stretching into her pussy. _His silver rings on and all_.

 _He growls_ against her ear when he can feel the stickiness of their combined cum still lingering in her from the night before. It was stuck to the juncture of her thighs too. She feels his nose nudge into her ear, opposite to the one she held the phone too. She hears him whisper against her ear; his breath hot and sending scorching shivers down her spine.

“I love feeling you when _you’re so full_ of _my cum_ , baby. So _wet and messy_ with me.” He muses into her ear. Stroking inside her. Her eyes go to the ceiling and _she prays_ her Aunt didn’t _hear that._ Her free hand, bends behind her, to stroke through his hair, _yanking a hard_ grip into it. That makes him hiss a smirk and suck onto her neck, utilising _plenty_ _of teeth_ as he did. Another rumble roared through that _barrel_ of a chest behind her, _he’d barely_ started slipping his thick fingers inside her wet, tight, heat. And already he could smell the scent of _her sweet_ pussy was permeating the air around him. He could _almost taste her_ from _here._

 _Perhaps that was a residual hint of her left lingering from her, finally, getting to ride his face last night…_ _And, Oh, how she’d cum for him._ She was shaking and trembling _so_ much, her hands fisted on the headboard like hooks. He had to peel himself away from those _gorgeous lips_ , stroke her thighs, and encourage her back to the bed to lie down. Chuckling with _how blissed out_ and _spent_ she was. Licking his lips to revel in her flavour. He wrapped those gorgeous arms and legs around him as he kissed her _back_ into life, nuzzling her neck and ears as he whispers _how well_ she did, and _how hard_ she climaxed. She could only answer in _gasps_ , sliding her fingers down his dewy back. She had _smiled_ and _groaned_ how he was a _very bad man…_

He smiles, seeing her currently clasping a hand across her mouth to keep her sounds in. He drags the pad of his thumb across her clit, sinking his thick ring clad fingers _to swirl_ against her g-spot. A muffled sound that _almost rhymed_ with _his name_ was torn from her throat…

“ _Hmmm._ ” He hears her Aunt suppose in a staccato bark. Not quite sure why her _Petite-fille’s_ voice was so, _strained_ , this morning. She sounded huskier too. As if she was as the point of _losing her voice_ … _why was she so hoarse today?_

“You must be _more careful_. Cheri. What _‘ave_ I told you about _that clumsiness_ of yours, _Sidney?_ It is not becoming. You’ll _never enchant_ a man by falling flat on your face… And I _don’t want_ to see you alone and riddled with ‘ _ennui’_ for the rest of your life…” She adds, _tsking_ at her relative.

Sid swallows. Nodding a high pitched, _‘Mm-hmm’_ Sound as she agrees.

“I’ll try to be more, graceful, in future…” She yelps in a quick pledge.

“’ _Ow_ is your single life _going?_ You know, _mon chou_ , I can get you a date you know? Javier Laurent seemed, _trés_ , interested when I was talking to him the other day about _you_.” She grinned salaciously down the phone _. Sid could tell when she was smiling like a fox…_

“ _Oh_ , my single life is treating me, _horribly_ at the _moment_.” She tells. Digging lightly at Kylo for teasing her like this. _How were his fingers so deep in her?_

“You’re a fucking _terrible liar, Doll_ …” Kylo beams into her other ear. Trapping her earlobe between his sharp teeth, nipping her. _He feels her knees shake…_

 _“Cheri?”_ Her Aunt asks. “You are seeing someone _else?”_ She enquires. Sounding both parts intrigued and delighted.

“If you _dare_ say _‘No.’_ Baby. I’m gonna _fucking mount_ you. See if you can keep those pretty lips _so quiet_ when I’m fucking _the life outta_ you.” He promises filthily.

“Actually _... I am_.” She bursts out. Fighting the wave after wave _of incredible_ pleasure that rockets through her limbs. “Seeing, _someone…_ ” She adds. He rasps a _dirty_ chuckle in her ear.

“Who _is ‘e?”_ Josephine asks. _Curious_.

“I uh… He is.” She pants. Trying to find her words.

“Can’t _wait_ to hear this…” Kylo flirts in a low mumble. Her wetness sliding _so slick and silky_ over his fingers now, that he’s certain she _can’t be far_ from her orgasm…

“I met him recently. _At a_ …nightclub….” She finishes with little embellishment. Wetting her lips. _Trying to hold back from moaning and cumming. She’s never concentrated on anything so hard in her life._

“What is _he like?_ What is _his name?_ _Don’t hold back_ on me, out with it.” Joséphine smiles.

Kylo muffles his laugh into her shoulder.

“Hey, _best do_ what your Aunt says…” He informs her.

“His name is Kylo. He’s very tall, lots of tattoos. Very _unabashed…_ ” She digs at him, her hips fight to _buck constantly_ into his hand. Her jaw is clenched _so tight_ , her _entire head is aching_.

“You _better_ be nice to me, or I won’t let _you cum_..” He purrs into her ear. Teasing her nipples, _harder_ , now too.

“ _Well,_ _how is_ it going? Have you been on a date _with ‘im_ yet?” Her Aunt presses.

“Just _the one_ …” She sighs, her entire body was _so taut_ now, _she wasn’t far…_ Her neck stretched back to cushion her head against his muscular shoulder.

“ _Well._ When I come over _in three weeks’_ time to _see you_. I can meet this, _brazen,_ tattooed man of yours.” She husks down the phone and Sid could hear that _broad, teasing_ smile.

“You’re _coming…”_ She whines. “ _TO New_ York?” She smiles, trying her best to sound pleased.

 _“Oui,_ and Victoire too, we fly out on the 3rd.” She announces proudly, there is a commotion on her end and she can hear a greeting spoken in amorous French. She can hear kisses pressed on cheeks and chairs scraping the pavement. An indication that her lunch date had joined her.

 _“Ah, Mon Chou_. I ‘ave to go. Jaqueline _is ‘ere_. But I shall ring you when we land in New York. You can bring that _new man_ of yours out to dinner with us. We’re staying at _the Plaza._ ” She tells.

“Ok, _I’ll- hah_ ,see you then _-love-you-bye-Bisous_.” Sid babbles. And after she hangs up the phone, she _launches_ it from her grip, and out of her mouth comes the _biggest, most shuddering_ moan. _Such_ a _desperate, whining_ sound, she can _hardly believe_ it comes from _her mouth._

“ _Aw_ , have I got you _that_ worked up, _Doll?_ ” Kylo teases into her ear. _Knowing full well he had._

Sid was squirming and writhing so much now, Kylo has to anchor his hands about her, _tight,_ just to make thoroughly sure she _stays_ in his lap.

“ _Oh, Jesus Christ_ you’re such _a fucking_ tease. Kylo.” She groans as his fingers begin to stroke and move slower. _Right when_ _she reached_ _breaking point._ Her entire body is a sweaty, trembling _mess._ She turns her head into the crook of his neck, her mouth open, panting against his throat, the scent of his sweat and faded cologne radiating from his skin.

“A _very_ shameful Tease, I hasten to add. _Let’s hope_ that Aunt of yours didn’t catch onto the fact you were about _to cum_ on _my fingers…”_ He snarls against her neck. Pressing her clit in firm circles up against her body.

Her hand tangles in his hair once again, tugging at the roots with abandon. He watches _her arch up_ in his hold. She cums brutally with a cry of his name leaving her _lips loudly_. Her legs quake, her arms are _straining_ to clutch onto either his hair _, or the_ pillows behind them. She can hear her own cries bouncing off the bedroom walls and echoing back to her. He sucks a hicky onto the juncture her neck and shoulder, watching over her body as a slick gush of her fluids _burst over_ his hand and onto the bedsheets _, soaking_ his hand.

 _He doesn’t mind saying he’d beaming with pride at that_. He slowly slips his fingers from her, feeling her pussy flutter and clench around him as he retreated from her tight heat. His fingers _drip with her_ when he pulls away. He smiles onto her neck, feeling her coming down, _still_ , from her high.

“Evil..” She pants.

“ _Can’t wait_ to meet your Grandmother…” He leers, solidly smacking a kiss to the side of her cheek. She grumbles at him. Feeling his raging hard-on pressing firmly against her backside.

“Are we ever going to leave this bed?” She asks him with a blissed out sigh. Making sure to arch her back and rub her ass into _his hardening_ problem.

 _He vices_ her hips in a grip.

“ _Not now_ , we’re not.” He answers gruffly. And in a very clever manoeuvre, he leans her forwards, kicks his legs out from under her, leans her on her side, and before she can register, he links her thigh over his hip, and she can’t even gasp when he slides fully _to the hilt_ inside her once more.

His lips focus on nibbling her neck as he thrusts, growling and bucking into her; her previous orgasms enabling his way inside her with _glorious ease_. It was _so dirty_ fucking her like this. He _never_ wanted to stop. _Matter of fact, he wanted to do this til one of them broke their pelvis…_

“I think this sweet pussy _of mine_ deserves _a cream pie_ before we get up and get breakfast. What do you _think, Doll?”_ He asks. Rutting with abandon into her. One hand toying with her nipple as he groans into her neck. She was so tight and wet around him, _so sloppy_ with her last orgasms the wet swilling sounds of his cock tugging and _plunging into_ her is both the _dirtiest_ and _most glorious_ thing _he’s ever heard_ …

“I _can’t_ argue with you…” She moans. Her nails scratching against his neck.

“I’d advise you _not too_ …” He Orders. Cursing as she shifted her hips and let him sink deeper. She didn’t know after fucking so thoroughly last night that she could still feel _so_ full, _so_ stretched _, stuffed_ , with him. She whines and writhes and they both unravel very quickly, bodies shaking and trembling for each other. He was so worked up watching her gush over his hand, it doesn’t take him long to get there…

 _“Shit_ , Sidney _. Baby. Gimme_ those pretty lips… _now._ ” He grunts, she turns her head and does as asked, looping one arm and linking it behind his head, savagely pressing her mouth to his. Shuddering with moans as she felt herself cum over him, babbling and gasping when she did.

 _“Oh_ , you feel so good. _My god so_ good…” She yelps onto his mouth. Causing his hips to slam into her and his foothold on his pleasure _snaps_. He pounds his orgasm into her ripping another whine from her lips as he brutally gives her his last, spilling hot and deep inside her. Keening thrusts make his hips give _their all_ before he sags behind her, panting ferally, surging forwards with _every last clench_ she gave around him. _Finishing riding_ their high.

They both slump back down onto the bed, his cock still _burrowed deep_ inside her. His big hands caressing her clammy body. Skimming over her ribs, thumbing her nipples, his lips kissing down her shoulders. He lifts his eyes from her form and something, _so thoroughly unexpected_ , catches his eye from across the bedroom.

Opposite the landing where the bedroom door was ajar; and Kylo’s body tenses when he catches sight of a familiar reflection in the mirror hung on the wall. Signalling said person had come innocently up the stairs and had, _undoubtedly,_ caught sight of what they’d just _indulged in._

She was unaware he was there, her head _thrown back_ on the bed as _Kylo savoured_ her. _He'd let himself in with the key under the mat when there was no answer. Not knowing what he was walking into, so it seems..._

Kylo’s lips pause against her shoulder, before they break into _the biggest_ smug smile against her skin. His hazy, dark brown eyes _piercing_ through the shaggy mess of his mussed black mane as he grins across at the figure on the stairs. Letting his hands _wander_ over Sid, _letting him see, as he_ cupped her hip, sliding caresses over her thighs.

Hux’s cheeks flush in _utter anger_ and rage when that bastard _winks_ across at him as _he kisses_ Sid’s shoulder.

 

 

 

~

 

 


	12. History and Futures and Angry Husband's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, here we get Kylo's backstory. With a little flirty promise of a fight/showdown to come on the next Chapter (cause I'm evil and also its 4am and I need sleep) and Kylo will also get a flirty little surprise from his lover at some point too. and yeah, Hux just ain't gonna leave them alone for the time being... please do enjoy... my filthy thirsty darlings... xxxx punk xxxx

 

(not mine, but enjoy this image won't you... (I _know_ you will) Source; mirrastupar on tumblr.

This was actually showed to me by the gorgeous adamsnackdriver on one of our heavy thirsting sessions on tumblr. If you're reading this, bless you, you angel, for this tattooed, stacked, yummy gift upon the eyes."

~

 

It was an impossibly bright New York fall day when the two lovers, _finally_ , emerge onto the street. Still hastily tucking clothes and shifting appearances here and there, it was no surprise they were a tad late rushing off to work. Kylo’s shirt was buttoned oddly. Sid was still slipping into her sapphire blue, velvet heels, and fluffing her mussed hair. Her _, gorgeous_ , bed companion was shrugging into yesterday’s shirt and that leather jacket. And zipping up his fly _the rest_ of the way. Kylo had been sneaking grabs _all morning_ due to her outfit. A _filthily_ , see through white blouse, and a high waist black leather skirt that he swore was _temptation_ itself.

_He’d snarled like a horny adolescent when he watched her slide it on, and zip it up. He almost hauled her back into that bed and tore it up to get to his favourite place to be. It didn’t help that he saw the tiny panties she had on underneath that skirt, barely, managed to cover her pussy. And, oh, how he’d be thinking about that all damn day…_

She’d just locked the front door, and turned to deposit her key into her bag, and he _is all over_ her again. She chuckles as he slides both hands round her body, hooking her close, those big palms gripping her ass as her palms tucked under the opening of his jacket. Feeling that solid body, _warm as ever_ , heating her palms against him, he was _an inviting_ heat source when compared to the nip of chilly autumnal air that wrapped around them. Though it was a sunny say, and the sky was bright and clear, the air bore a biting snap of frost. And though Sid was only in sheer stockings and a skirt, she didn’t _feel the cold_.

She knew she’d pay for it later, and part of her _felt slightly_ like mutton trussed up as lamb, in a flirty skirt, with bare legs and sexy heels, but then he kissed her, and she didn’t _care anymore_. She couldn’t help it. _She thinks she may be in love with this man_. And so _she smiles_ into their kiss. _They hadn’t said it yet. But the feel of it hung around them in the air they shared like faded perfume._ _Glimpses of it had snuck out when their guards were down, such as last night._

“I don’t need to ask if you like this skirt _then?_ ” She smiles against his kissable lips. _His hands hadn’t left her ass since she’d slid the thing on._ He tasted of _strong, dark_ coffee and French Cigarettes. (she’d nicked a couple from Josèphine’s stash)

“You look like sex-on-legs, _Doll_.” He assures her with a wolf-like grin. Gripping harder, _squeezing her_ closer. She smiles and runs a hand through that wild, still a touch damp, raven hair of his.

Cuddled close as they were, she could smell that his usual cologne scent had diminished. He had no qualms about using her bathing products, now he smelt like _her_ shampoo and body wash. He had joked as he stepped out the shower ‘ _feeling like a new woman.’_ She teased him about that, and, the fact that the size of his ears was almost comical under the wet shaggy mane of that hair. _He’d tried_ to whip her on the ass with the corner of the towel _for that._

“You might have to _unhand_ me now, or we’ll both be, _even more, late_ …” She accuses.

“Do you want to ‘ _unhand’_ me?” He asks, shuffling her scarf out of his way with his chin so he could press a kiss into the hot crook of her neck. Finding the scent of her perfume and freshly washed, rose and jasmine scented hair that thrilled him. He smiles into the soft, silky red locks. _The aroma of her, his Sid, sending a jolt to warm his stomach though_ _to the backbone._

She makes a noise that sounded _adorably_ like a sighing growl. Hooking her hands into him and keeping them both _exactly_ where they were

“Hypocrite.” He snarls, before wrapping an arm around her back and tugging her in to taste _that smil_ e he’d be thinking about _all day_.

They had risen and showered after his _cheekiness_ earlier when her Aunt rang her. Naturally, more naughtiness _had occurred_ in the shower. She _couldn’t resist_ running her sudsy hands all over a very broad, naked, wet, Kylo Ren. That had resulted in a rather spectacular orgasm for the both of them as he pinned her to the tiled wall and kept her legs hoisted to his waist. After they’d dried off, and managed to abstain from any more sex, Sid made them both coffee – _proper first-rate_ coffee from Victoire’s pet, _very expensive_ , coffee machine - and warmed up the croissants she’d bought yesterday. She even kicked an old married habit and had a cigarette with her breakfast. Her Aunt had never minded smoking in the house. She shared her Gitanes cigarettes with him. Stealing kisses between drags, and mouthfuls of buttery croissant with warmed strawberry jam.

 _Reluctantly_ they both now had to go to work. She was astonished to feel a _niggling ache_ in the pit of her heart at the thought of parting from him. Her body was buzzing with coffee, love and nicotine. And she was happily _sexed up_ and in a mood of _sheer bliss,_ this morning. They pull apart, and she doesn’t want to un-fist her hands from his jacket. She does, only briefly, to wipe away the smudge her lips left on his stubbled cheek.

“When can I _see you_ next?” She dares to ask him. Peering up, tilting on tiptoes to press a matte pink rose lipstick kiss to his cheek. With one arm slung still gripping her ass, his other hand reaches across and lifts a stray wisp of hair from her forehead. He smiles, drinking her in before he had to drag his eyes off her and go and _pretend_ not to be consumed with thoughts of her all day.

“I’m _tending_ bar at the club, tonight.” He sighs in exasperation, tucking that misbehaving curl of hair away behind her ear.

“You still tend Bar? Even though you’re the owner…” She asks. _She likes that about him._

_And suddenly a very devious thought occurs to her…_

“I fill in every _now and then_.” He smiles. Done with reorganising her hair, his other hand shifts to re-cup her ass in his hands. _One last squeeze_ before he had to go.

“Tomorrow night?” She asks. He grins.

“Come to _my_ place… I need _to repay you_ for dinner..” He suggests filthily. _She blushes_.

“You paid me back, _plenty_ , last night…” She points out, her fingertip caressing one of the pearl white buttons on his dark dress shirt. _The glint in his eyes is one of lust, and utter disagreement._

“8 o’clock. Corner of West 73rd and Amsterdam. I’ll _underwhelm_ you completely with my lousy cooking. Which we can _let burn_ whilst we get up to much more…. _pleasurable…things…_ ” He growls, hands sneaking up and under her skirt to cup her bare ass. His fingertips brushing _teasingly_ across the flimsy lace there, a cheeky note of _‘I’ll be back for you later’_ lingered in his touch. She gasps when his cold fingers caress her ass cheeks. Cool air sneaking up her skirt just like his fingers were.

“…Then after I’ve fucked _you sideways six times,_ we can order takeout and eat in wearing very little clothes. And I can pretend _that wasn’t_ my plan all along.” He promises. She laughs he ducks down to kiss her laugh away.

“ _Try_ and keep me away…” Sid promises.

“ _Oh_ , trust me, my only goal at present, is to keep _you as close_ as possible.” He smiles sincerely.

“…and on that note, I gotta _go_.” He sighs, gripping her tighter for to savour _his last_ few seconds of her. “My completely _annoyingly competent_ assistant is blowing up my phone as we speak asking where the _hell_ I am.” He grants. Pressing a long kiss to her lips. Abandoning her perfect ass, he _desperately_ cups her head and makes the most of the embrace.

“I’d offer you a ride, but my office is in the _opposite_ direction to the Gallery, and _I’m late_ as it is….” He rattles. Wincing.

She calms him. Pressing a hand to that _solid_ chest.

“It’s alright. I’ll get a cab. Probably _not_ a good idea to ride a saddle in _such a short_ skirt.” She smiles.

He grumbles and tries to paw at her ass again. _To him, it sounded like a very good idea. That scantily clad body pressed to him was always a good idea._

“Oh, _and uh_ \- _Tomorrow?_ Wear something _easy_ to get out of, Baby.” He growls when they pull away.

“You’re _a wicked_ man.” She flirts right back. Before she withdraws herself from his clutches. Patting him firmly on the butt when he turned to go down to steps. He turns back and gives her that _‘look_.’

“My wickedness is _exclusively reserved_ for you, lucky lady.” He tells her. Before she could protest, his hand shoots out and fists in her skirt and brings her teetering to the edge of the top step to press them into each other again. She would’ve fallen down the stone steps were he not the big, solid anchor keeping her standing tall before him. His hand skirts up her thigh again,

“Just so you know… _Doll_ , you’re gonna need _to prepare yourself_ for what will happen when I haven’t made you cum or been inside you _for 12 hours_. Tomorrow night. You’ll _be lucky_ if I get you past _my threshold_ before I get to be inside _or_ face first in that _sweet pussy.”_ She blushes, and almost moans when his mouth sneaks down her throat and _nips_ against her skin, in a nuzzling kiss.

He chuckles, pulling away. Loving the sight of her blush.

“I also want to see _how far down_ I can make that _gorgeous_ blush go…” He relents with a filthy smirk. She bites her lip as she smiles. Watching him bound down the steps, and across to his bike. She shook her head at him, stepping down onto the street. He kicked the stand up and revved the engine loudly as the Harley rumbled to life. Before he slid his helmet on, he crooked his head at her, beckoning her over. Those inky locks shifting and tumbling around his face as he did. She paused in putting her leather gloves on, and securing her long-line wool jacket shut.  

She steps over, her handbag slung off her elbow. He tilts over and kisses her once more. _Sweetly_. His mouth took its time gently moulding to hers. Gently coaxing and pressing onto her, one big, warm hand cupping her neck as he stole her breath, her rationality, _her heart, too._

“…And it looks like I _really can’t_ get enough of you.” He whispers huskily. Shaking his head in disbelief. His eyes looking solidly at her lips, then sweeping up her face.

“The feeling is, _so,_ _entirely mutual,_ Mr. Ren.” Sid assures him. Kissing his lips back as she holds his chin. As she slides away she smiles and eyes him out the corner off her eyes as she taps one gloved finger to her head. Inaudibly reminding him to ‘ _stay safe’_

“Protect that _big pretty_ head of yours…” She riles as she puts a sway in her hips and sashays up the curb. Kylo bit his lip as he slid on his helmet. _Fucking Minx._ She put that sway in her hips on absolute purpose intended for him. It damn well worked. He watched the two peachy globes of her ass and her deliciously thick thighs as she stepped up the curb. He watched her skirt strain across her rear and those _killer shapely_ legs, topped with striking blue heels as she walked away, off to the main street to catch a cab.

She turns and smiles over her shoulder, wisps of red hair tangling in front of her cheeks and mouth. That curved red smile and straight teeth, _beaming_ at him as he flipped his visor shut and started _revving loudly_ after her. Loud purrs of his revving bike following her down the street. He watches her walk away for a moment. _Mesmerised. Enchanted..... hopelessly infatuated._

He pulled away and roared his bike down her road, heading off into the morning grid of traffic.

And he smiled, _all the way_ to work.

 

 

~

 

 

When he got to work, he parked his bike, as always, in the side alley. By the stairs leading up to the VIP lounge. He stows his helmet away and brushes a hand through his hair. Looking up at the huge cavernous, modern space that was sprawled up above him on the block.

Its _sheer size_ and extensive reaches had first impressed him when he was working here for his boss when he’d been a lost, hopeless  _mess._

Having been booted out of the army _far earlier_ than he thought he would be, leaving the few friends he had made there, the few friends he had left alive. He was _cast_ _out_ on the side-lines. An obsolete soldier with nothing to show for his time served than a shattered sternum and a note on his record for honourable discharge. He’d come home, _broken_. _Wounded_... _Worthless_. And then he _bounced_ from inane job, to inane job, seeking _his place_ in the world.

He’d _been reckless_ in that time. A searching, moping, _lost, mess_ of a man.

He’d joined a gym back then to keep up his armed forces physique. He’d _never_ been more shredded in his life than he was back then, and _now_. Bulking up to surpass even _Ben’s stature_. Who even through high school was known as the _most stacked_ Solo Boy. Kylo had always been big in the arms and the chest. _But never like he was now_. Never _so giant_ and _bulked_ out. _Built like a fridge, His mom had countered_. Gone was the gangling teen with too big ears, and a shaggy mane of hair to hide behind, away from the world. The same lanky, hulking teen who’d seen _too many awful_ things fighting in a war. _A kid in a man’s uniform_.

He’d grown sick of waking up every day, feeling _useless_. His old life carved on around him as if nothing had changed. He got so _angry_ and worked up when everyone else seemed so normal and content, and he was _barely grasping_ onto his sanity by the _tips_ of his fingers. It was all _so insultingly_ _the same_.

Late, sleepless nights on his brothers couch because he’d brought a one night stand home whilst Kylo had been out late, shredding his knuckles on some contenders face in the ring. He’d stumble into Ben’s home, late – so late he was almost _early_ – and he’d be steaming drunk, to take the edge off his battered body from the fight. _Whether he lost or won, his mood was_ _the same_. Angry at the world. Angry at his family.

He’d try and sleep, hunched up in his clothes on the couch, bitterly nursing his wounds. Trying to ignore the sounds of his brother, and his date for the night, _fucking like rabbits_ , just down the hallway.

Then in the morning, Kylo would wake up, _hungover_ , _throbbing_ with pain, finding the same variation of big breasted, half naked bimbo, wearing Ben’s shirt (he’d groan at the cliché) searching for coffee in the kitchen cupboards. Before Ben sidled through and had to try and break up with the girl amicably.

Kylo would just grunt in monosyllabic tones and _trudge off_ to the shower. And then that night, they’d repeat the same thing, _all over again_. Right down to the next Ring fight he’d participate in, and be scarred from, to the next easy girl his brother would manage to coerce into _no-strings_ sex.

 _Kylo was sick of it all_. _And he didn’t know what was keeping him alive day, after day. He was lowest of the low. One notch above being homeless on the street. He felt as if he was barely living. Shunned out of the only thing he knew how to do; being a soldier._

Whilst he was continuing to be _pissed off_ at the world. He inhabited some shady jobs.

He’d dealt _low key_ , fairly harmless, drugs part time to make petty cash. He’d been a doorman _at many_ a shitty nightclub and _seedy_ strip joint. As his size was an _ultimate_ benefit to that. He’d been in so many fights and scrapes he had a scar on almost every part of him. He’d been shot, stabbed, shanked and beaten in almost every _damn way_ there was possible. Yet, _life clung_ to him like an illness.

He eventually got involved in illegal fight rings _night after night_ as a contender. Quickly earning a rep for himself. He didn’t _win much_ when he first started out. But then he soon boxed his way to _the top_ of winning _every fight_. _Fuelled on_ to be at the gym _to further_ propel and tone his body to _the ultimate_ killing machine. _Red Dead Ren_ , his _sobriquet_ in some dark, underground fighting circles. That was where his abundance of Japanese style red and black tattoos had come from. He liked the _pain_ of ink being scratched bit by bit into his skin in the _traditional_ inserting ink method. He liked how they _covered_ his scars. _Hardened up_ his _no-good_ image.

Back then, he’d had _nothing_ in his life, except for the clothes on his back, _a meagre_ and sad cardboard box of possessions of his former life, sat in Ben’s apartment, gathering _dust._ And nothing but _that_ , and his rotten outlook on life as he crashed on Ben’s couch (cause on pain of death was he taking any of his brothers or his parents money for a place of his own)

Then one day, he had wandered into Star-Killer for a bar job, word on the street from some guy he sold weed too that they were looking for people, experience _not necessary_. They needed a general bus-boy to wash glasses and take out trash. The money seemed steady.

He managed to get it by the _skin_ of his teeth. His _meagre scrap_ of work experience bartending way back in college earned him the job. He worked _damn hard_. He was the poster boy of a _rags-to-riches story_. According to Ben, _anyhow_.

Within just six months he had gone from bus-boy, to Bar Staff. Working up from there, after a while, to main Bartender, onto Bar Manager. From that, slowly making his way to the VIP room bodyguard, to VIP room Manager. And after Snoke died and left it to him, he hit top billing as  _Owner._

_Sure he’d hit rock bottom. But rock bottom was sure as hell a good solid foundation to build up from._

That was when he felt like he began _to claw_ his _life back_ into shape.

He earned enough behind him to move off Ben’s couch and into the tiniest, most _lousy_ apartment that was the same diameter in size of a _postage stamp_. Nonetheless, he _pushed_ _on_. And within five years, he’d saved enough to buy an expensive, fully kitted out apartment on the Upper West.

He finally _moved out_ of the tall, _ever-great, reaching shadows_ , of the _greatness_ of his family. Hence why he had adopted a _different_ surname, legally changing it to suit the old man he came to see as his mentor, his _real_ family. The man who’d given him a _second_ chance after the army chewed him up and _spat_ him out, and his life was _one_ _bad_ fight away from landing him in the gutter as an _unloved bygone._

_Kylo Ren was born out of all this pain, misery and strife he’d suffered._

He’d wanted complete _disassociation_ from his family. From his siblings, his absentee father and his powerful, government serving mother. He’d spat at her in his _angered state_ one day, that they didn’t need _him_ associated with _them_ , that he was _saving them all_ the embarrassment of having a _jobless, miserable wreck of a son_ in the family. And vice versa, he didn’t want _his name_ pinning them to him. He shrugged them _all off_.

Matt and Ben had been _fairly quick_ to forgive their triplet brother in his appalling behaviour he’d exhibited in his _disenchanted_ phase. However, it took his parents a _little longer_ to arrive at _forgiveness_ for the way he’d acted.

Leia Organa-Solo didn’t _have need_ of a glorified Nightclub owner, mobster, dealer and bare-knuckle champion as a son, whilst she served in high office, he always crowed.

Sure, he wasn’t _squeaky clean_. His reputation for dark forays into the wrong side of the law _wasn’t spotless_. But he’d jape with her that _atleast_ he wasn’t some nameless nobody, or a runaway kid, under a bridge somewhere, with a needle _buried in his arm_. He was a successful man now. An entrepreneur. He owned substantial property spread _out across_ _all_ of Manhattan. Bars, clubs and Restaurants.

Matt had always been the _golden child_. _Their veritable blue eyed boy_. His honour roll childhood, rife with winning international chess championships, and awards and medals won for numerous science and math projects. He was offered an internship at NASA merely for his mid-term paper in the _ninth grade_. He was accepted into University at _seventeen_ , and _surprise surprise_ , he was a _model_ student there too. Graduating with honours and quickly going back to do his masters within a year. Last he heard, NASA was still after him with _numerous_ job offers. And there was even a Japanese company based from Tokyo trying _to woo_ his littlest brother into a job over there doing something _utterly_ high tech, _very_ important, and _thoroughly_ clever in aeronautical _and_ astronautical engineering. He currently lived in NYU halls in the Village as he read for his Masters degree.

Matty was always _under_ Kylo’s wing as a kid. Kylo had, _always,_ been there to _beat up_ and _chase_ away bullies who’d made his brother have scuffed, shredded knees, and a bloody nose. The bullies who’d stomped on his glasses and _tore up_ his homework. Kylo would _be there to fend them off_ , watching over Matt.

His heart hardening _every time_ he had to witness his brother snivelling into his jumper sleeve, with dirt on his jeans and his converse laces _trailing behind_ his big feet, and _trying_ (failing) to _hide_ the crocodile tears behind his thick lensed glasses. Kylo would try _his best_ to fix his snapped glasses with sticky tape, and leant him _his own_ paper to hand in _as his_ homework, so he wouldn’t fail _._

 _Kylo would always be there to take the fall for Matt_. _And help him back up_. He was _inherently closer_ to him than his other brother. _Kylo_ was the _protector_ , the _hero. The Solo soldier._

He would gather the useless scraps of the paper the cowards had torn up, merely because they were _too thick_ to understand that Matt was _five times_ cleverer than all _those idiots_. He would help his little bro to his feet. Dust him off, stem the _bleeding_ , and his _bruised_ self-confidence. And remind him that they were a bunch of _useless pricks_ trying to feel better about themselves. He would remind Matt, telling him _never to forget_ that he was _worth ten_ of those empty headed jocks.

Speaking of _empty headed jocks_ , that term applied _generously_ to his _second_ brother. Ben. Ben had always been _the most social_ of the pack of Solo boys. He was the rowdiest, loudest, _cockiest_ of the three of them. To Ben, life had always been _one easy long cruise_. Life was, _and always had been,_ stress-free for Ben. He had the _charms,_ the _suave_ and the popularity that the emo-brooding-Kylo, and nerd-sci-fi-Matty sorely _lacked_. _His life_ was one _long string_ of bad grades, jock pranks and bed-hopping _with every_ popular girl he could play tonsil tennis with.

If he wasn’t in his room blasting music, and smoking weed - with his right hand for company - Kylo wished to point out. They shared a wall, he, _unfortunately,_ knew and _heard_ as such for _many_ years through high school. Then likelihood was, Ben had snuck out (on being grounded for sucky grades) and gone to a keg party, _or_ a pool party, to flirt, have drunk, meaningless _hook-up sex_ , _or_ , get stark raving drunk and participate in _insane_ dangerous pranks that, more often than not, landed him in the emergency room with a _broken something_.

_Kylo had one rule for Ben; if he wasn’t balls deep in a girl, then that was because he was busy balls deep in doing something else stupid, instead._

He was the idiot brother with the big, flashy _dumb_ smile. The one who had a new girl on the go each week. His black book had to _be a mile_ long. He was the brother who was, generally, the greatest source of aggravation to his siblings. _A vain, dumb, plain pain in the ass_. The kind who left _his dates underwear_ strung across Kylo’s back seat after he borrowed his car for the night, and left _scratches_ on the hood paintwork for good measure. He was the kind to bake weed brownies and almost burn the _house down_ in the process. He was a _laid back hurricane_ of a _mess_ who _never_ seemed to worry about _a damn thing_.

Kylo often wondered how on earth he managed to scrape his grades together enough to go to College. Yet, he did. “ _You know he probably seduced his professor…”_ Matt often said in explanation. Because they were both _fairly sure_ Ben’s sexual conquests weren’t limited to _just_ women. _That boy was the walking, talking definition of ‘a college try’ when it came to sex._

Somehow, the dope managed to graduate _fairly well_ from Boston with a degree in Business & Management. Leading Kylo to believe he’d actually picked up a book and studied once in a while, rather than playing _beer pong til he was blackout wasted_. And after a whole plethora of internships, now was a senior partner in BB&T, on Wall Street. He had a _million dollar_ apartment in Soho. And Kylo was sure, the guy had _so many notches_ on his bedpost by now, he was sure it was whittled away to _a twig_. He wasn’t reputed to be one of the city’s _most legendary_ love-rats for _nothing_. Ben had dated models, film stars, daughters of dignitaries, and moguls, from _here,_ to _Timbuktu_. Still the _same old playboy_ he’d always been. Only now he had _a Porsche_ and a hefty bank, and expense account, to really fulfil his _erratic-at-best-_ existence.

 _The day Ben Solo settled for, one, romantic partner, was the day they’d both invest in ice skates. Because that meant that hell would have frozen over._ Kylo and Matt had decided between them  _long_ ago.

Kylo always marvelled at _how_ _well_ the sight of the Nightclub alone could pull such _memories_ out of him.

He let them wash over him, packing away his things and locking up his bike for safety. He patted the saddle, cradling his phone in his hand, cringing when he saw the multiple notifications swiping up his screen from his busy-body assistant. He strides across to the VIP stairs and treks up them. His long legs strode quickly and he exchanges a friendly word of greeting to _the stacked_ bouncer who was just inside the door, sitting on the sofa, reading the paper and enjoying the first cigarette of the day, along with his _‘everything-in-it’_ onion bagel that stunk up the air around him.

Stevie was on duty today. Kylo had hired him to work here, closing in on _eight years_ ago now. The man was a human _bull dog_. Bald, tall, squat. Built like _a tank_. With a chunk ripped out his ear from some long since passed fight. Silver pirate hoops studded through each ear, and his grin was missing _a couple_ of teeth. His accent was _so_ New York Bowery, it _was almost hard_ on the ears.

“You’re _late today_ , Boss.” Stevie _grins_ sagaciously. _Kylo was rarely late to this place_. “Hey, wasn’t you _wearin’ that_ shirt yesterday?” He asks. His cig stubbed between his flabby lips, twirling grey sickly smoke up into the air.

Kylo turns to him, and sneers, wordlessly walking past, extending a _middle finger_ across at the guy. Who wheezed into a spluttering, wheezing _laugh. The man was one of his oldest friends after all, and his first ever fighting coach. Kylo looked after those who’d helped him. He helped his own._

He strode to his office, to the sound of Stevie wheezing and cackling across the big, empty, silent room. The club felt so empty and lifeless when it was out of use. It was only when it began to _pack_ to the _seams_ of the rafters, strobing with _lights, noise_ and _heat_ that it began to feel _alive_ to him. He steps into his office and sighs when he catches sight of his assistant, _sat furiously_ typing away at her iPad on his desk. He grits his teeth and very slowly opens his office door. Slinking in as if he were a misbehaving teen, caught _sneaking back in_ after a wild night out partying.

“You’re, _very_ , late.” Jan barks across at him. Her choppy fringe, silky black like a _curtain of silk_ , bobbing as she furiously typed. She was wearing her usual white, sleeveless, shift dress.

Jan Zheng had been his faithful, _his gal Friday,_ for three years now. _She was ruthless_. A slender, feisty Asian girl who ran this place like _clockwork_ in his stead.

Always opting for smoky eye makeup that was _perpetually flawless_ to frame and define her russet eyes that she took great pleasure in glaring at everyone through. Her hair straightened to _ruler straight_ points of a sleek, shiny bob. She wore, almost _painful_ looking, sky-scraper heels that upped her willowy height. And her displeased glare was one of the most _terrifying things mankind had ever to_ witness.

She had sleeve tattoos, was _as feisty_ as they came. And _madly in love_ with her equally as hardcore, Hispanic partner, Maya. They had a Pitbull called Chowder, whom they adored _like a baby_. Lived in her artist’s studio loft in Tribeca. Had been married for two years now. And were the steadiest, most _loved up_ couple Kylo had the pleasure to know.

_Well, judging by the way his love life was currently going, he was soon to be a contender to boot them out of the ‘most loved up couple’ spotlight…_

“I may _point out_ , we don’t open until _ten_ tonight...” He points out, walking across to the room to his hidden cupboard. He slams his hand into the wall and it opens a passageway, revealing his wardrobe of spare shirts and clothes he kept here in case of emergency changes. He had _no qualms_ about stripping his shirt in front of her. He unbuttoned it, _smirking_ lightly in the mirror when he saw a smudge of Sid’s lipstick on the juncture of his shoulder, as his shirt gaped open on his chest. The cool, silver necklaces he wore clattered against his tattooed sternum as he tugged off his shirt. His dog tag, faded and diminished from his youthful army days, and the other, the other had been from _a relic_ of his past that he’d sooner _rather forget_ …

“I told _you yesterday_ , you needed to be here to sign for shipments _at 8. Sharp_.” Jan spoke out mercilessly. Not taking her eyes from her iPad. Furiously typing an email with her black and silver manicured fingers flitting sharply over the keys. The clacks beating up into the air of his office. He winces looking across at the clock that read ten to _eleven_.

“I was… _busy.”_ He offers blithely, patting cologne on his cheeks, rolling deodorant under his arms. Though he had showered with Sid. _There had been very little washing done once they both got naked and in each-other’s peripheral vision._

The clacking stopped, and Jan sharply turned her head to interrogate him with a _stony glare_. His shirt was wrinkled, as were his jeans. And he was wearing ‘date’ shoes. Not _those awful_ black, beat up, biker things he was _now_ dragging onto his feet. Her eyes keenly spied a love-bite marring his neck and shoulder. And she could smell him from here. Expensive perfume and _feminine_ shampoo drifted across in her direction.

“Who is _she?”_ Jan smiled lightly. Apart from the odd one night stand, he, rarely, had any female company in his life. He lived in a manner that was practically _monk-like_ when it came to the opposite sex. _This was a rare occurrence…_

Kylo side eyes her, with a _smirk_. Plucking a clean white t-shirt from his wardrobe, slipping it over his broad shoulders, slipping it over his back and pulling it on. It was _tighter_ than a _goddamned second skin._ Showing every _muscle to flex_ as he moved. His _bulging_ arms, his _sharp_ shoulder blades, and that ripped torso. It was on shameless display in that cinching shirt.

“Wearing _shrunken_ t-shirts again?” She mocks. “You know they have men’s sizes? I believe XXL or Tank size would _fit you…”_

“Go _swivel_.” Kylo laughs at her. Slamming his wardrobe partition shut.

“I met her through, work…” He admits quietly when he crosses the office to look down over the well-lit, empty club. His hands jammed far down in his pockets. Watching the Bar Staff clean and sweep the sticky dance-floor down below. Stocking up bar for another busy evening anticipated tonight. It was a _foam_ disco tonight. That always brought a crowd.

“You, met a woman, you actually _liked…_ ” She gushes in amazement.

He rolls his eyes.

“Hux’s wife.” He nods.

The clacking stops again. _That shut her up._

“You finally break the habit of a lifetime of emo-I’m-so-unlovable-and-dangerous-brooding-silence, and _do a_ woman, and _she’s married?”_ Jan asked, almost offended.

“She’s getting a _divorce._.” He supplies. One hand braced on the window before him as he leant against it.

She tuts.

“I thought the great Kylo Ren _didn’t do messy?”_ She asks with a _definite tone_ to her voice.

_Kylo’s mind goes careening back to this morning. Hux catching them fucking in her bedroom. He hadn’t told her that they’d had a voyeur to their pleasure session. Doubtless the coward had turned on his heel and left the house in a blind rage. Judging by the irate reddening of the bastards pale face, he hadn’t stuck around to watch an Kylo gave him an eyeful of an encore. Eating Sid out til she wept for him to stop..._

“Even if I didn’t. She’d be _completely worth it_. Hux is a _no good prick_ whose been two-timing her for _years._ He didn’t know _what_ he had. And I’m _so_ glad he’s finally realising it now she’s getting _a good taste_ of what she deserves…”

“Easy on. It’s _not that_ big.” Jan mocks with one raised wry brow.

Kylo shakes his head as he finds himself _laughing_. _She had the darkest wit in all New York._

 _“Ouch.”_ He flinches. “Is it me or is _it frosty_ in here?” He jokes. “I actually _wasn’t_ talking about me, you _great big_ pervert.” He relents. She looks up and blinks across at him.

She’d never _seen_ _him_ _naked_ of course. _Brutal_ _wit_ was just _her_ way.

“She seems to be coming to terms with herself. _Granted_ I’ve only known her for a matter of weeks. But that prick can’t have been any great husband to have about with the way he kept her miserable and _lonely_. _How is that a good marriage to be in?_ What kind of man moves his wife across the world, and _then ignores_ her for someone else?”

She scoffs. “Any normal guy.” Jan bites out. _Not the best advocate for men coming from a ruthlessly hardcore lesbian_.

“Sounds like he was thinking with _his dick_ and not _his head_ , to me.” She points out.

Kylo raised a brow in agreement. He silently watched over the club. Before Jan barked a staccato control into her Bluetooth headpiece. She put her hand to her ear as she spoke in her _usual brief_ commands.

 _“Boss?”_ She bays out suddenly.

“Hm _m?”_ Kylo responds, half-heartedly. Looking out across his dark, busy little kingdom.

“Someone here to see you. Apparently, he’s kicking up a _shit storm_ to see you..” She speaks, unfazed. Because the day Jan _was_ fazed, by _anything_ , would be the days _pigs would fly_.

“Let me _guess…_ ” Kylo gruff's out. His _body taut_ as he sees a familiar dark suited figure, stride _angrily_ across the dance-floor, intending with purpose towards his office. He is stopped and interrogated by his staff. His body language wide and jerky as he bared his teeth and snarled at his staff.

“That someone is _Armitage Hux?”_  He asks.

“Bob said he sounded, _pissed_ …” Jan tells.

Kylo clucked his tongue, and _smirks like the devil._

“I’ll be back _in five_.” He spoke, striding quickly, like a stalking _predator,_ through the dark VIP lounge, coming out onto the balcony. Overlooking the club. Now he could hear Hux’s rageful shouts. And the crude interjections of his staff trying to calm the man down.

Kylo leans on the balcony and amusedly watches the exchange for a long moment. Sensing a lull, he chips into Hux’s anger.

“You’re _fucking obsessed_ with _me_ today, aren’t you?” He calls down. Grinning like it was going _out of_ style.

Hux snaps his glare up to the man.

“Hate to _tell you this_ , But I’m a taken man, _buttercup.”_ He riles. He takes great delight in watching Hux’s head almost, _explode. Veins strained, temples pounding. Bruised face comically red with rage. Almost as red as his hair._

“Let him _up_.” Kylo tells his staff. _This should be interesting…._

 

 

~

 

 


	13. Bourbon Punches & Nightshifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SOooooo, this one is short too (Don't kill me please) But there is something filthy I'm working on to come on the next chapter that is downright what Kylo absolutely deserves. (Queue Sid coming to have a drink at his bar in a very, limitlessly sexy dress to lighten his mood! Givin her man a lil well deserved lovin') 
> 
> Please enjoy yourselves my darlings. And oh my holy god, this has 300 kudos now. 3 0 0 ! dang! you guys are thirsty. Thankyou for endeavouring to keep up with my smutty scribbles. I adore you lot. You sure know how to make an author feel special. I love you all. (really, I do!) TTFN x Punk x

 

 

 

Kylo watched the man angrily shrug off his bar workers, and storm across the dancefloor. Bounding up the stairs, bringing him face to face to see him. Kylo smirked a smug grin seeing the man still had the black eye and scrapes he’d gifted him with the other day. Made to look all the more sombre by the man’s pinched expression.

Kylo raised a brow as he came closer. He half expected the idiot to come in swinging to throw a punch at him.

“How may I assist?” He beams. Finding much hilarity in the Hux’s rage. His tone so genial and mocking he swore if Hux ground his teeth much more, they’d soon be dust.

“How dare you…” Hux seethes. His voice so quiet, reed thin with sheer, spitting anger.

“…If you’re referring to this morning, I believe you should take heed of the fact that your ex-wife’s locked door wasn’t an invitation…” Kylo suggests. Skirting round the man, heading for the bar. He’d need a drink for this. Damn the fact it wasn’t even noon yet.

“I wanted to talk to Sid. Alone. I’d no idea you were even there.” Hux spits. Hot on the man’s heels, following him down the stairs and coming to the bottom, where the edge of the dancefloor lay.

“Sorry to have spoiled your plans…” Kylo smirked. There wasn’t a single shred of apology anywhere in him right at that second.

Hux darts in front of him, forcing himself in his path and blocking his way. Kylo slowly grit his jaw together. Coming to a forced stop because of the irate man before him. That big chest slowly exhaled, and before his red mist and old fighting instincts kicked in and ravaged his temper, he remembers the old steps he had to take to keep a clear head and not explode into rage because of someone baiting him.

“Fisticuffs? Really?” Kylo japes. “I’m not in the mood to meet you at dusk with pistols drawn, Hux.” He tells the man with little patience in his voice.

“Why Sid?” Hux asks in a low tone.

Kylo frowns.

“Excuse me?” He asks, perplexed as to his seeking such an answer.

“You could have anyone. Why her?” He seeks. “Is it because she came here to make her filthy deal with you. Is that how she caught your interest…”

Kylo’s keep-calm methods were being very slowly drowned out as rage began to flood his chest.

“I’m not dignifying that with an answer.” Kylo seethes. Stepping a little closer to tower across the man. Letting him know he wasn’t going to take these accusations lying down.

“I don’t think you’d really care to hear why.” Kylo assures him. His filthy insinuation more than clear. If Hux was here looking for some evil-scheme in Kylo to hurt Sid. Then he’d find none. In fact, he’d mind the complete opposite in the regard he held her…

“I know my Sid. She’d never go near a man like you. Trust me when I say you are not her type.”

“She’s not your Sid anymore.” Kylo tells him plainly. “And it sounds to me like you’re damn sure having trouble letting her go…” He points out.

“We’ve been married for fifteen years-“ He began.

“…and you were unfaithful to her for three of those years.” Kylo points out. Sid had told him all about this. “You threw away a diamond to pick up a rock.” Kylo digs. “And I know why you’re here now…” Kylo speaks loudly. Uncaring that his staff were crowded around the bar at one end. Anxiously

“I’m no fucking therapist. But I can see you’re here to berate me and belittle me to try and offload some of the fucking guilt you feel because you, chose, not to save your marriage. You opted instead for an easy fuck. And you got away with it for so long. Now, you can’t stand the fact that Sid might be happy with someone who isn’t you, because it means she gets to claw back some of her wounded self-esteem that you dashed on the rocks when you showed her how little she really means to you…” He grinds out with spite.

“She doesn’t mean so little to me.” Hux tries to defend.

“You fucked her best friend. That tells her she meant diddly shit to you.” Kylo points out.

“That’s not true…” Hux offloads in a raging quiet tone.

“Then what was it? Because from where I’m standing…” He trails off.

“You don’t have any singular bearing on mine and Sid’s marriage.”

“No. But I have more of a bearing on Sid now, than you do.” Kylo digs; cockily. There comes that smirk again.

“Just like the bearing I had on her, this morning, for a shining example…” He mocks cruelly.

Because Kylo had made damn sure that Hux had a first row seat and a five star view to, everything, that he had done to her in bed that morning.

Hux’s eyes shine with pure, glittering malice, and his jaw shifts. A vein straining in his throat and his forehead.

“You think you’ve won her?” Hux digs cruelly.

“It’s lust between you two and nothing more. You think you have a shot at a lasting relationship? She thinks you’re so grand and chivalrous saving her from the nefarious, duplicitous husband. Just wait til she finds out what you’re really like, Ren.” Hux scorns.

Kylo stays silent. But the red mist was starting to cloud his eyes, and he was helpless to stop it. His chest rose and fell in angered succession. His blood started to fidget with rage.

At the insinuation that Sid was merely using him for lust, for the brief respite she had from her loveless match with Hux, Kylo flexed his hand, really wanting to give him a broken nose to match that eye.

“Whatever chance I have at her. Slight or not. It’s more than yours. She could never be more lost to you than she is now.” Kylo assures him firmly.

Because they’d talked all through this last night at dinner. She talked to him about the stresses and sadness, of starting the first stages of separation and divorce. Getting the application for proceedings from her lawyer. She’d made it very plain that this is what she wanted. Hux had 13 days to respond to her request, by law.

She’d said she was looking forward to a wildly inappropriate ‘I’m Divorced from a cheating bastard’ party after a few months when it was final. Lots of booze, plenty of friends there to drink booze and laugh with, and she’d request presents on demand. He had leaned forwards and offered dirtily some, very hot, recently-divorced-I’m-now-single-again sex to sweeten the deal. She had agreed. With blushing cheeks as she sipped her wine, he wished to add.

“It seems to me, you’re not willing to accept this. Or, more accurately, you’re not willing to accept, me.” Kylo suggests with an edge like a knife, to his tone. Sharp and dangerous. Much like the glare he was now giving Hux. His voice exited his throat in a growl.

“You’re not good enough for her.” Hux snaps.

“So says the cheater.” Kylo bites back.

“You don’t know me. Armitage. Save for through my businesses. Don’t dare start imagining that you know me..” Kylo warns. Voice rising.

“I know that a man who can harmlessly lend out $40k to a stranger isn’t any sort of man I want hanging around someone I love.”

On hearing him saying he still loves her, Kylo fought the urge to snarl like a wolf.

“Well. I’m guess I’m just lucky that Sid cares very little for your opinion as of recently…” He holds out.

Hux sighs a low, unamused sound back at him.

“You don’t deserve her.” He puts out.

“Right back at you.” Kylo scowls.

Stepping around him and heading for his tended target, the bar. He watched Max, his bearded hipster barman, place the bourbon and a clean glass out for him as he approaches. Smart guy. He gives Max a strained look of thanks before chucking the drink back. It burned his teeth as he supped it down quick. He exhaled and it shuddered in a slick trail of heat down his throat.

“What did you imagine?” Hux presses. “She comes to you to make a deal. You blackmail her into a fuck. And follow her around for weeks like a lost damn dog. And you expect to get a relationship out of that? How naive are you, Ren?” He snipes.

“I imagined nothing. She became my business the second she offered a counter-deal to me for the loan for your little side piece. And don’t think this is me leading her astray. Believe me. After nine months of nothing from you. She came willingly…” Kylo taunted in a breathy voice as he got right up close to where Hux stood.

The man looked like he wanted to commit murder, right there on the dancefloor. In front of witnesses no less.

“You know what you need to do, Hux? You need to leave her be and accept her decision.” Kylo suggests.

“She wants nothing more to do with you. And coming in here to snarl at me, ain’t winning you any favours. She wants a divorce. And I had nothing to do with influencing that. That is freely and wholly her choice. You need to respect that. And understand that as long as she is not married to you, she has decided unilaterally that she will be involved with me. So go cry a river, go back to your tween, and leave us alone.” He informs him.

He moved to go around him, effectively ending the conversation.

That was, until he felt Hux hook a hand into his shoulder from behind, and before Kylo can fathom, in the split second he turns, he feels the mans fist violently collide with the side slope of his jawbone.

He staggered back on his feet, feeling his breath burst from him and pain shudder across his cheek and lip from Hux’s attempted solid right hook. His face was numb for a second, his senses reeling in shock, before the pain began to flare up in his face like fireworks bursting across every nerve…

He took a stumbled step backwards, dragging his knuckles across his upper lip, where he’d felt his lip split. Copper filling his mouth as blood smeared across his front teeth. He brought his hand up to his face and saw the violent shade of dripping red coating his fingers. His cheek still ringing with the dizzying, hard sensation of the, weak, hit.

Kylo chuckled. Inclining his head, tilting lightly, after looking at his blood soaked fingers.

The staff around him were apoplectic.

He saw staff dart forwards to seize the man who’d just clobbered their boss openly across the face. They darted forwards and he saw two doormen start for the man to haul him out and throw him on his ass on the street. Kylo held up a hand to halt them all, tongue tipping his lips to taste the leaking blood, hand held up in front of his face as he eyes Hux.

The man looked acidic. That usually neat hair mussed in his face. His cheeks reddened, veins still pushing up under that pale skin. Glaring at Kylo as if he could kill the man stone dead with a look.

“Seeing as I’m the man whose now fucking your wife for the foreseeable future. I’d say that’s fair.” He taunted with a smarmy grin.

Hux doesn’t say a word. Kylo just looks at him. Even though he could feel every muscle in his body tense, straining, with the exertion it took to reach forward and snap the redheaded man’s spine in half with one kick. Or his neck, he snarls to himself, he could see his hands grasping on that pale throat until he felt the bastards spine give way.

“Go lie in the bed you made Hux. I can’t speak for Sidney. But I know her enough to know you two are done.” He tells him sharply.

“Now get out before I talk my brain into retaliating...” He threatens darkly.

He’s battered men half to death. He’d killed people. It was for the best the man who just drew blood from him retreated, quickly, very quickly before he could dissuade himself from retreating back into old fighting ring habits…

Hux’s jaw grits. And he turns and leaves without another word. Bounding up the steps to near the front door, brushing past his help, shrugging past, he storms down the hallway and out the front double doors. His employees awkwardly set about their chores in the wake of incursion. The bar suddenly empties and people are quick to flee the room.

Kylo walks over to the bar and folds his limbs up onto one of the bar stools, trying in vain to reduce the blood that slipped from his split lip. He took the brunt of the hit to his mouth, his skin splitting under the sheer force of Hux’s knuckles. He takes the bottle of bourbon he’d had a slug of earlier, and wastes no time in tipping the silver pourer between his lips and tips the bottle up. The spirit glugging air bubbles through the bottle. He winces slightly at the drink stinging his wound. The sweet sting and tang of bourbon mingling and meshing with the copper and flavour of blood on his teeth.

He hears heels click behind him. Dainty, almost weightless. He ignores Jan coming towards him, grabs a black hand cloth from behind the counter, and scoops a handful of melting ice into it. Bundling it into one big hand, he presses it against the side of his cheek. He rolled his lower jaw open, feeling it click and ache back into place.

“He was pissed then.” Jan speaks up. Arms crossed as she stood behind him. One hip jutted out far as she stood with her trusty iPad moulded to her hands. One pale leg of hers kicked out. Her agonising heeled boots as sharp as her eyeline and gaze. And wit.

“Well spotted.” Kylo congratulated. Still holding the bundle of cloth to his face. Swigging once more from the bourbon bottle. His Bartender came out of the stock room and sighed when he saw that Kylo had unhygienically tainted that bottle of liquor. Kylo sent him a look of minor regret, before pulling out a fifty dollar bill and shoving it across the bar to him in compensation.

“I might have to fire you for not stepping in and defending me. One glare from you and he’d have backed off.” Kylo speaks to his fiery assistant.

“I’m not the one fucking his wife. I think all round I’ve a better chance in the first place of not getting a bloody nose.”

“…Lip.” Kylo corrects innocently.

“Boss. You’re the size of a goddamn house. You could have easily beaten that red headed stick insect.” She tells him.

Kylo shook his head.

“I’m not gonna give him any ammunition to think I don’t deserve Sid. He ends up with his face caved in cause of me, if he runs to Sid with it, she’s gonna think I’m a brawler with a violence fetish.” He intones. “She already knows I gave him a black eye when I found him cheating.” He adds.

“Ah, so I see. So you took a beating for love. It was a romantically inclined beating.” She leers without any sympathy.

“And to be fair, don’t kid, kid, you are a brawler.” She tells him. Patting him firmly on the back of his built-like-brick shoulder. Punching, really. Knocking into him with a balled up, tiny little fist that was harder than steel. Especially the big statement silver ring she wore…

He nods a grunt. “Thanks Jan.” He says drily. “Pillar of support as always…” He groans.

“We do crazy shit for love. It’s nice to see you like this. All noble and calm. Makes a change from the cold hearted king of brood you usually are.” She speaks over her shoulder as she walks away. That was how she dealt out compassion. One quick punch to the shoulder, a mean word, and she was off on her emotionless way.

“Maybe you should keep this, Sid, around. I like the sound of her already. Her ex sounded like a right prick.” She calls back from across the dancefloor as she clacks away.

Kylo nods. That was a fair summarisation.

With his mood and ego a little soured, but ultimately alright. He sighs, grabs his companion, the whisky bottle, and heads back to his office. Glugging booze all the way.

Hopefully, his night shift tonight would be kinder to him…

 

Little did he know...

 

~


	14. Bosses and Trysts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you're looking for a lil musical inspo for this chapter. You might like to try 'Redlight' by Taya. 
> 
> I know I said I'd put this on the end of chapter 13, but, I once again, made it far too long (oops) so do enjoy that. Its here we begin to see Kylo/Sid mould together. Meshing into being more than lovers/partners (dare I say boyfriend, girlfriend?) and the next chap we will absolutely see a f u m i ng Sid march to Hux's office to yell his ears off about the fact he won't leave her and Kylo alone. And our dear big beefy tattooed boy is in for a surprise when he comes home from work one night from his new lover. stay tuned.
> 
> TTFN xxx punk xxxxx (love ya loads. btw. Never gonna tire of saying it) <3

 

 

 

The club was hopping tonight. Heady atmosphere of loud music, too many bodies and too much heat mashing together.

Vibrations from the bass sending shockwaves through his bloodstream. The air was perfumed with the scent of alcohol and the numerous mixtures of sweat and cologne, musky, lingering in the humid atmosphere. The bar wasn’t far from the booth, and subsequently the music seemed to pound through everything it could touch. It was him, Max and Asha working the bar tonight. And they’d been virtually mobbed, ever since the doors had opened. There was no doubting this was a popular spot on New York’s night life scene.

He could feel his forehead sheened with sweat, his hair clinging on damply to his skin. His t-shirt stuck snug to his back too. His lip had finally stopped stinging from his earlier altercation, but now it felt swollen. And he’s sure a purple-yellow bruise was forming high up on his cheekbone. He could feel the red lights strobing over him as he poured a pitcher of margheritas for a very drunk gaggle of girls at one end of the bar. He’d been almost glad to put his back to them as he worked. The blonde, in a very low cut purple dress, whom he’d served had leaned over the bar and flirtily dragged her hand down his arm as she ordered a round of drinks. He could see their reflections in the mirror before him, that lined to the back of the bar. They were gathered in a little group, the one who ordered the drinks in, laughing drunkenly with her friends as she stood. He braced himself before he turned and served them their tray of beverages. She leered wildly at him.

“Thanks handsome.” She coos, being sure to angle her body so as to give her cleavage the best view for him, as she leant forwards on the bar.  Practically draped over it. Teasingly offering him a folded bill between two manicured, hot pink, talons of fingernails. This wasn’t new territory for him. Often drunk girls, and guys, tended to make eyes at him when he served. When he nodded a wry smile and she reached for the money, she tugged her arm back, being playful.

“What are you doing after this?” She braves, leaning closer. He could smell the strong scent of vodka on her breath. And some very rich, ultimately too sweet sickly perfume pluming in his direction from her honey blonde hair.

“Something else...” He informs her firmly. Her smile diminishes, and she slides the bills across to his hand, when he moves to take the money. Her hand curls atop his, the way her nails scratch against his hand makes his skin crawl slightly.

“You know, my girlfriends and I don’t mind sharing, especially if it’s you we’d get to share.” She tells him, biting her lip and giving him once more, that teasing smile. He looked across at her with a flick of his dark eyes. From the barbie pink lipstick, to the too revealing dress, and the way she was being what she was sure she deemed as ‘playfully adorable’ he found himself thinking, in spite of all her efforts to look like a woman, how babyish she seemed.

“As charming as that offer is.” He trails off. “I’m still gonna have to decline.” He slides his hand out from hers and takes the money with him. Nodding for her to enjoy the drinks with her intoxicated posse. Her face falls and she scoffs as she pulls away. Her face wrinkling up as if she’d tasted something sour. She tosses her hair over one shoulder and clacks away with her round of drinks. He puts his back to the room again and shakes his head. Princess clearly wasn’t used to being turned down by guys that she flirted with, he thinks.

When he turns around again, scanning across the bar. He could see a gap in the crowds, and when he recognised the figure walking towards him through the crush of bodies on the dancefloor. There she was. Plain as day in a crowd of silhouettes. His heart jumps in his chest. And he doesn’t mind admitting that his mouth gaped.

His brain almost couldn’t comprehend the visual his eyes were feeding him. The gorgeous woman that he’d been yearning for, aching for, ever since they parted that morning, many hours ago. He was getting antsy for his next fix of her. Like an addict. And what a fix this was…

He couldn’t pull his eyes from her even if he tried. A stroke of red light curved over the dancefloor, arcing across her body. Dressed tonight in the tiniest dress he’d ever seen her wear. It was a couple of shades darker than her pale skin, a muted beige gold. It was a naked dress. Studded sparsely all over with pale sequins and beads, sparkling, catching the light when she moved those gorgeous hips. Thin straps curved over her shoulders, and his eyes rested solidly on the slit of the dress that daggered high up one pale thigh. Her curves on sinfully delicious display in the figure hugging dress.

His eyes didn’t make it to her feet, but judging by the way she swung her hips, she was wearing a pair of those exquisitely sexy high heels she favoured. It wasn’t a particularly low cut dress, it had a square neckline, and it showed off her legs modestly, but it successfully hinted so devilishly at the glorious form beneath it. The form he wanted under him right this very second…

She smiled as she caught his staring. Her hair was loose tonight, and it was tousled and curled beautifully whereas she usually wore it straight. When she turns sideways to avoid colliding with someone, he remains transfixed on a lock of curled copper hair that falls forwards over her ear. She comes to the bar and sets her clutch down on top of it, perching on the stool and crossing her legs.

His groin tightens when he sees that skimpy skirt hitch higher up her thighs as she crosses her legs.

He steps past Max and steps across opposite her. She meets his gaze and smiles. Her dark berry painted lips pulling into a smile. Her hands folded delicately over her clutch bag, elbows resting on the black shiny surface of the bar. He could see her short nails matched the shade of her lipstick. A dark purple-red. He wanted those nails raking down his back as he fucked her, more than he wanted oxygen.

“Hello big guy.” She grins, adjusting on her seat. Before the lights sweep over him again and she seems to linger on his lips, and his cheekbone. He was hurt. He watches that smile of hers fall.

He leans over the bar, adjacent to her, and clasps her hands in his. His, big, giant paws were warm where hers were colder. Having just come in from the brisk autumnal outdoors. His thumbs rub over her knuckles.

“You, and that dress, are a very welcome surprise…” He purrs at her, his smile widening. He brings one hand up to his lips and kisses it. Feeling her soft skin, and its addictive fragrance, under his nose.

She wasn’t letting him wriggle out of it that easily. No matter how alluring that big, dumb, sexy, wide smile of his was.

She tilts her head and examines him, leaning closer. “Is that a bruise…” She asks with withdrawn curiosity. Her hand eases out from under his, reaches over and gently cups his face. His plush lip was split too. A thin trail of a only-just-healing cut sat to the very left corner of his lower lip. Her brows were drawn together, pinched and she had that doe-eyed look of innocent concern which he found adorably charming.

His hand encircles her wrist so easily. The sheer size of his hand so large when contrasting to her delicate wrist.

“It’s not important…” He tries to divert. Because if he had to tell her who hit him, then he’d have to let his thoughts go toward the man. And as foolish as it was, he didn’t want to cheapen his mind with thoughts of her ex, when she was here before him looking so stunning.

Her eyes flashed. Even in the half darkness of the club, when the lights behind her stroked through her hair, igniting it a fierce red. He could still see her eyes gleaming coolly with realisation. That once innocent expression tightened.

“Hux.” She sighs angrily shaking her head. Those lips pursed. He cups the side of her neck and strains over to taste those annoyed lips. Urging her into a sweet kiss. The bar his side was painfully digging into his hips, but with his lips on hers, he didn’t care. He pulls back and scoops her hand up in his.

“Baby, it’s ok…” He tells her.

“It is not, ok..” She begins, affronted. “I can’t believe him.” She riles.

Kylo takes that opportunity and turns to Asha who was stood not far from him, pouring a pitcher of beer, trying not to sneak smiles and glances at the rare sight of her loved-up boss. There was a lull around the bar at the minute. Everyone sat there had drinks, but were congregated around the stools, talking, dancing, or flirting.

“Cosmopolitan for my lady…” He asks her sweetly.

Asha grins her pearly white smile and nods a “Sure, Boss.” At him. Moving to serve the beer, then make his drink.

Asha was an asset to the Club. She was a brilliant Bartender. She almost gave him a damn run for his money that’s for sure. She was Hindi, and his most reliable bar person. As hopelessly competent as she was pretty, which helped sales sometimes. He hired her right off the bat of her interview here. She was a single mom struggling to make ends meet when they met. He started her on the highest pay he could. And made sure to tip bonuses in her favour for to look after the little one she had at home. She was slim, tall, leggy, but not in a way that reeked of arrogance, she was the humblest soul alive. She wore her long, dark, caramel wave hair in a high up ponytail. She always had killer black, chunky cat eye, make-up pointed to offset her doe brown eyes. She had a silver septum piercing, and wore her signature black uniform shirt, teemed with jeans slung low on her narrow hips.

Kylo turns his sweet smile back on his Sid. His hands solidly entwined with hers as she looked at that bruise, he could almost feel her anger and worry permeate through the air toward him.

“What did he want?” She asks in a quiet voice. Shame in her expression.

He doesn’t know if he should necessarily give her the answer to that.

“To make sure I knew I didn’t deserve you…” He tells.

“He’s got a bloody nerve…” Sid scoffs. Luckily, before she can launch anymore into a verbal cursing tirade against her ex-husband. Asha sweeps over and slides a very cold, very sweet and very fruity Cosmo before the woman. The blush pink drink garnished eloquently with a long curl of orange peel.

Sid smiles at the serenely beautiful bar woman. Loose strands of her dark hair fell in waves over her angelic face, and she gives Sid a brilliant, straight white smile. “You look like you needed a strong one..” She beams. Sliding the napkin and drink across to the redhead.

“Thanks Ash…” Kylo turns to her. Someone signalling for attention down the other end catches his attention. He kisses Sid’s knuckles quickly.

“Drink. Don’t dare waste any worry on that ex of yours. I’m sure as hell not.” He encourages lovingly, sliding away to tend to patrons. She and Asha both watch that big hulking form stride off down the bar. Sid does as she’s told and sips her drink. As soon as the sweet, tangy drink invades her tongue. She outright moans in satisfaction.

“My god, that is good.” Sid compliments to Asha, as she dove back in for another sip. She watched the barmaid smile as she cleared away some dirty glasses. Still near Sid.

“It has been suggested I make the best Cosmo in town. Hey, not to brag or anything but…” Asha smiles. Shrugging as she wiped down the bar with the cloth strung from her aproned hips.

“Pah, suggested..” Sid waves off. “Confirmed.” She adds. Sid sticks out her hand to the woman. “Sidney. Pleasure to meet you Ash.” Asha diligently wipes her hand on her apron and politely takes her hand.

“Asha. It’s very nice to meet you, Sidney.” She grins. Before she flickers a look down the bar where her Boss was in part serving drinks, in part sneaking glances at his lover.

“How do you know the big bad boss then?” Asha asks curiously, her eyes lighting up with curiosity. Leaning against the bar, and resting one forearm on the beer tap.

“His moniker?” Sid asks with a laugh. “We met just recently, actually, at this club.” She tells. “Now, I have to ask. What is he like to work for?” She seeks.

“Well. He’s definitely big, no denying, and he is also the boss. But try as he might, he’s not as bad as he outwardly looks.” Asha beams. Sid could definitely sense a grateful platonic tone to her voice when she spoke of her employer.

“I mean sure. The guy looks like he belongs on some MMA circuit somewhere. But, hell. He hired me two seconds flat into my interview when he found out I was a single mom. He started me off on a pay that was far higher than I deserved, just so as I could set money aside for my Raavi to go to a good school.” She told Sid.

Sid lowered her drink from her mouth. Her face pulled into a smile. She darts her eyes down to look at her man, who was just opening a bottle of beer. Nodding and smiling as he conversed with the guy he was serving.

“Definitely an enigma, that one…” Sid smiles across at Asha.

“He’s the best boss too. Doesn’t look like he would be. But he is…No one in this place or any of his other clubs would dare say different..” The barmaid adds. Sid’s heart felt suspiciously warm. She admires him for a second as she fiddles with the stem of her glass. She watched his tight t-shirt flutter across his spiking shoulder blades as he reached forwards, she watched his head tilt to scan for something as he reached under the bar. That obsidian hair curled against the sweat on his forehead and the nape of his neck. She watched, a slight ripple of hunger pulsing through her, when she watches his huge inked up biceps flex as he flipped a glass up to pour something into it from a shaker.

“Well. Appearances can be deceptive. I must admit I jumped the gun when I first met him.” Sid tells the woman. “I assumed in no polite way that he was a serial-bed-hopper.” She spoke with a tilt of her head as she drank some more.

Asha nods. “I understand that. You’d think a man who runs a club, looking like he does, would have a different bimbo in his lap every night. But, nah. Him? He’s a horse of a different colour. I could count on one hand the number of times he’s been involved with girls. And even then, It was a strictly one night thing. Never saw them again after that. Just needed a lil’ company for the night, I guess… He’s usually a complete brooding loner.” Asha waves off, piling more glasses into a tray to be washed.

Sid raises a brow. “Really?” She asks, astounded. Her chest constricts when she thought of that warm, kind man being lonely by choice.

“Oh, totally.” Asha nods, before she fixes Sid with a cheeky grin. “I guess as the new girlfriend, you had a right to know about his previous exploits from one of his friends at some point.” She winks. Fluttering enviably long, dark lashes at her.

Sid found her breath skipped when she heard the ‘G’ word fall from Asha’s lips. She swallowed her drink with a slugging-thud. Smiling humbly as she stood her drink down. Her throat a little raw from the socking slug of liquid rushing down her oesophagus.

“I don’t know that we’re…” Sid trails off, cheeks pinkening.

“What? Not quite there yet?” Asha asks interestedly.

“I’m only just starting divorce proceedings….” Sid explains. Asha wrinkles up her cute nose with a smile. Narrowing her eyes playfully.

“Screw it. I saw the way he stared at you when you came in. That seems damn solid from where I’m standin’” She beams, hauling a tray of dirty glasses into her hands and sashaying off down the bar to dispense with them.

Sid blushed and bit her lip in a smile to herself, after Asha went. Was their attraction that palphable?

She refocuses on her, truly great, Cosmo. Slowly sipping as she let the atmosphere of the place. The bass of the music thundered through her blood. People jostled and danced on the dancefloor behind her. She’d only been here for a short while, and already, she could feel sweat gathering on her body from the sheer heat of the muggy room warm about her. It was no wonder Kylo was almost dripping with sweat, he was pulling a shift too. Double the exertion.

She is so lost to her ministrations, that she doesn’t notice the bustle beside her as a guy in a suit stretched himself to recline on the bar, slowly eyeing her up and down as he stood. She was oblivious, as she sat with a straight back, legs crossed as she enjoyed her drink and watched the reflections of dancers enjoying themselves to the music behind them. He watched her stand her drink down, before he wet his lips, smiled, and went in for the kill.

“What’s a good looking broad like you doin’ drinkin’ all alone, sweetheart?”  He leers, turning his body to face her as he let his eyes linger on her body. She turned and observed the guy who’d disturbed her solitude and rasped a husky new York accent into her ear.

He was dressed in an expensive looking black suit, and blue shirt. With dress shoes that looked thoroughly, tastefully Italian. He himself less Mediterranean than his clothing suggested. He was blonder, and his hair was coiffed and styled carefully to look disorganised on his head. He had a handsome cleft chin, a purely handsome smile, his eyes were a vivid shade of almost-too-pale blue. High up on one ear he had a silver hoop daggered through his helix. And she could see calligraphy scrawled in a tattoo up his neck. And where his elbow draped casually off the bar, she could see letters too, stamped in ink onto his knuckles.

She gives him a meek smile in reply. “Oh? And is there something wrong with a woman drinking alone.” She asked with narrowed eyes. Trying to suss him out.

“Woman like you shouldn’t be left alone for too long. You might fall at the mercy of guys like me.” He flirts. She wants to roll her eyes at the smarmy flattery.

“I’m not the falling type.” Sid assures him with a polite smile.

“That cause you ain’t met any guy like me, yet.” He reiterates. Clearly wishing to make it obvious he was a cut above the rest.

“Can I get you another drink?” He relents. Nodding to her almost empty glass. She quickly darts her eyes down the bar, seeing Kylo was otherwise occupied, his back to them as he searched the liquor shelf for a certain type of vodka requested by a customer.

“I’m not interested. But thanks for the offer…” She suggests. Wetting her lips and turning away to sip the last dregs of her drink. Out of the corner of her eyes she watches him gather himself and lean a little closer…

“You got a boyfriend then sweetie?” He asks her condescendingly. She daggers her eyes across to where he’d shifted closer, his knee brushing against her bare thigh. She raises her eyes to his face. Not answering.

“I mean. It’s a fair question… sweetheart. Are you taken or not?” He presses. She sees things in him that she doesn’t like. His words are too sharp, and they fell from a sneering mouth. His eyes suddenly looked ice-cold. Not just pale. But almost translucent and brimming with malice.

“I’ve already stated my disinterest. I fail to see why I should answer anything you ask me.” She holds firm.

She wasn’t going to be a shy little gentile when this sleazy guy was so aggressively bothering her. And nor was she going to be sweet and meek in letting him down so as not to offend his ego. She didn’t tiptoe on eggshells just because a man’s precious feelings were at stake. Besides, he wasn’t a man, he was a predator.

Showy smile, flashy watch, one who expected women to fawn at his feet in worship. All designed to ensnare weak willed, cheap women. He’d made a mistake in thinking she was a cheap catch.

“Oh. I see…” He purrs suddenly. His mouth gaped in a smile, showing her, too sharp, teeth. And he then reached across and covered her bare kneecap with his hand.

“You’re one of, those, girls…” He adds. Slinking closer to let his breath roll over her ear. He smelt like stale dank cigarettes, weed, body odour and sour cologne that made her stomach curdle.

She tensed feeling his dry, callused palm in skin-to-skin contact with her. She jerks her knee away, but his grip is resolute. Strong.

“Please move your hand…” She grinds out unkindly. To onlookers, she supposed it looked as if they were merely a flirty couple. Enjoying a drink. Enjoying each other. As it currently stood, she felt sick. And angry. No woman was safe with a guy like this around.

He smirks, and lets his hand glide much higher up her dress lingering just under the hem of it. His fingers  grappling into her thigh. She feels his nails bite, stinging, into her fleshy leg.

“That’s not what I meant…” She snaps. Trying to pull away. But that just makes him tighten his grip.

“We both know you was bein’ playful. Sweetie.” He tells her. “You’re one of them prissy bitches who makes a man work to get you on your back, huh? I mean, why else would you be in a place like this. In such a slutty dress?” He asks. She could feel he was mapping out her thick thighs with his fingers. Sneering as he did.

“Little bit more, weight than the club girls I’m used to fuckin. But I don’t mind that. More for the pushin’, right?” He sniggers against her ear. She can feel his hot breath landing on her neck, making her shudder. She puts one hand to his stomach and tries to shove him off. But that just causes him to wrap his other hand around her waist, keeping her close.

“Feisty lil’ baby, huh?” He smiles, chuckling at her attempt to wind him. He swayed closer, aiming to lean in and lay a kiss on her neck.

All of a sudden his touch is ripped away. She feels a gigantic hand cover his on her back, and then he is torn away. She shrinks back in her seat, her back against the bar as she watches her pervy attacker get slammed into the bar. And when she says slammed, she means that in the most literal sense of the word. Glasses broke and shattered in the wake of his body being shoved down. Barstools clatter to the ground either side of him in the wake of his body. He was shoved to bend over the bar, pressing the flat counter into his ribs. The arm that had been round her back was now pinned down, twisted behind him in a way that was not far off snapping it back to break it, or dislocate something. His other hand fisted In the back of the guys collar. His muscles bulged up, flexing so much she was fearing they’d rip and burst out his skin.

The sleazes face precariously close to landing in the splintered glass. As was no doubt his intention. Sid’s mouth gapes when she sees the more than irate man who’d put him there.

She’d never seen a man look so deadly as Kylo did right now. And tall. He seemed taller in his anger somehow.

His rage strangled the air around them. His eyes were two deadly pools of jet black, hidden under the brim of his almost wild hair. Because wild couldn’t even describe the look of him right now. He was as untamed as they came in his wrath.

People around the bar shrank back from Kylo’s outburst. The area around them almost clearing. Some diverted to the dancefloor, some took their drinks and walked across to the section of chairs and tables. It was just Asha and Max behind the bar now. Asha looked shocked, Max merely looked uncertain.

“You know, Seth. I can’t think of any damn reason not to break your fucking shit off, right here, right now. I told Lorenzo what would happen if I ever caught you prowling round my club again.” Kylo spits into the mans ear.

Sid had a feeling this faceless man was in enemy territory. The man pinned under her lover bucked, and only moaned louder as Kylo pushed his wrist up, making the angle, sharper. Inflicting more agony on the man. He snarled deeply through clenched teeth.

“And now, you come in here, and you hurt my woman. I’m delighted to tell you that perfectly entitles me to tear your goddamn spine out through your lying, snivelling teeth.” He spits.

“Ren. You’re gonna break my fucking arm.” Seth whines. Growling back at his aggressor.

Kylo sneers a scoffing laugh down at him.

“No.” He says calmly. Before he moves so sharply. He effortlessly shifted the angle of the mans wrist to an almost impossible position. His other hand slammed into the side of his wrist and judging by the crooked angle it now sat it. It wasn’t a painless endeavour. A sickening crack sounded the air. Aswell as Seth’s shouts of pain.

He’d broken bone.

“Wrist. Not arm.” He picks pedantically. Giving his body one last shove forwards. Stepping back. Seth whirls around, nursing his battered arm with the other, like a bird with a broken wing. He slumped back against the bar, glaring hatred at Kylo who stood with his body before Sid. Shielding her. The way she saw him glare at the sleaze made her never want to be on the wrong side of him.

Here was the ex-marine, bare knuckle champion. He was always there. Temper and deadly skills lingering just under the surface of his tattooed skin. Ready to pounce if he needed. He was the most civilised, genteel, kind man she’d met. Yet, he could be the complete opposite. He could become the most dangerous man in the room. It was in the same way a panther had its claws, even when they were sheathed. That was Kylo down to the ground.

He could break a mans limb as effortlessly as if he were crumpling paper. That was not a man to go against.

“Lorenzo will give you a shit storm for this.” He promises. Blood dripping down his chin, and he had a cut on his forehead from the broken glasses he was bashed violently into.

“Lorenzo is a legitimate businessman who respects the deal we made to stay out of one another’s paths. You’re no more than an illegitimate coked up lackey with a shitty little god complex who needs to stay the hell away.” Kylo cuts.

“If I see you in here again. If you come within a metre of my girlfriend again. I will throw you off the roof of this building as many times as I please to make my point stick.” He promises in an eerily calm voice. His eyes were as sharp as the daggers of glass that had cut jagged little wounds into Seth’s face.

The sleaze, flickers his eyes to Sid once more, half hidden behind Kylo. Lingering on the way Kylo had slid his hand into hers, reaching behind him for where she sat.

“Be seeing you, sweetie.” Seth glowers at her. Before he scarpered off to the exit. Kylo doesn’t move. But his eyes follow the man to the exit.

He turns and faces Sid. He doesn’t say a word. He yanks her wrist into his hand and drags her onto her feet. She has little choice but to be led by him. He takes them through the dancefloor. By the booth, and behind it, past a fire exit, and into a door that took them down a long, quiet corridor. She totters after him. The sound of his heavy footsteps and her clacking heels seemed to encircle them in this back hallway. There was no décor back here. Just breeze block walls, and a concrete floor. And the air was colder. More chilled than the heady heat and noise of the club. He pulls her through a door at the end and brings her through it. It was an old store room of sorts. Judging by the boxes stacked everywhere, and the musty, damp smell of cold and old metal that was strung up in the air like bunting.

The double doors whine and flap shut after them. Dragging on the worn floor. Light from the hallway they just walked down filtered in through the twin circular windows in the doors. Were it any colder in here, she’d be able to see her own breath spiriting out her mouth. As it was, it was daggering goosebumps to prick up against her skin on her bare legs and arms.

Kylo brackets her into the wall by the door. Keeping her in place with his big body. He stared down at her and cupped her face in one hand. He grit his jaw and shook his head.

“He hurt you?” He asks. Because the sheer amount of bone-shaking rage that was firing through his blood was making his head pound.

She shakes her head. “In ego only.” She tells him, pressing both hands into his pecs. Feeling the heat of his body through his thin shirt. So hot it branded her palms. And that’s when she spares a glance up at his face. He was raging still. Flushed cheeks, hair curled against his sweaty brow. His chest falling and rising quickly as he drew in big breaths to try and keep calm.

“I’m ok, Kylo.” She assures him. He doesn’t answer her. Instead…

He crushes her into a kiss.

His mouth hungrily melts into her own. He breathes her in, giving her a kiss that was almost too much. Too much teeth, too much tongue, too much sucking. But god, its filthy. And it still took her breath away. He kissed her like he was trying to fight to own her. And  it worked. Because she could feel herself clenching for want of him. Her body seeking more heat, more kisses, more of him. Just more. All.

She fights back against his ferocious kiss with her own tenacity. She sinks her fingers into his hair, scratching her nails through his scalp. The fact that he was sweaty and flushed was only making this all the more divine. Her back is rubbing against the harsh texture of the grainy wall behind her. But that just adds another delicious friction into the mix. When he bites her lower lip, she bites back. When her tongue curls to find his, his ravaged hers. Just the way he liked it. They both groan, and mumble onto one another’s lips. Kissing and ravishing each other’s mouths like desperate teens necking at prom.

She doesn’t even object when one hand of his comes up and tugs harshly into her hair. Arching her neck back against the wall. The sting of his grip releases a flood of wetness to soak her pussy. She loves when this big man gets rough with her. Sid groans needily when they break away. Lips so wet and so red against one another’s as they pant into each other’s mouths, desperate for air, and only for a second. As his lips then sunk down onto her neck. Plucking bites and harsh loveless kisses onto her sensitive skin there. Her fingers still dug into his hair. Pulling and dragging the locks in that way that made him hiss.

“I wanted to tear his fucking head off for the way I saw him touching you…” He moans against the soft, perfumed skin under her ear. “You belong to me. I’ll be damned if I let any other guy put his fucking hands on you like that again. Doll.” He growls, panting onto her skin. Feeling their bodies writhe, rub and grind into each other. His hardness urgently seeking friction against her wetness. Those wide hips of his rubbing his hardness into her belly.

“I only want you, Kylo.” She assures him right back. “Only ever you.” She whines as he bites and feasts on her neck like a damn animal. Reddening and bruising the innocent pale skin there with little reminders of his teeth that would last for weeks to come, if he had his way about it.

“That’s why I wore this dress here tonight, for you…” She continues flirtily. Her tone was sensual and hinting at something more. Devilish. He pulls back and rakes his eyes down her body. Wetting his lips. She grows wetter with the smirk he is wearing.

“I’m a fan. This one won’t get in the way of my fucking you.” He tells her.

“For more than one reason…” She eludes. He tilts his head, questioning her. She makes plain her meaning when she grabs his hand off her waist, and shifts to place it directly between her legs. Letting him feel…

Fuck. Is the only thought in his head.

All he could feel was her wetness sliding down her hot thighs, from her perfectly bare pussy. She’d gone commando in this naked dress. And when he focuses his eyes on her hardened nipples poking up under her dress, he knows she meant, fully, utterly naked.

He doesn’t waste any time.

He spins her round, keeping his hand between her legs. Her flattens both her palms to the cold rough wall, he bends her at the waist and artlessly shoves her dress up over her hips. Her thighs tremble when he sinks to a crouch and tugs those hips back, and shoves his mouth into that pussy.

His eyes rolls back into his head at the taste of her that he’d missed.

He was face first in her just this morning, and he’s fucking missed it. The way her perfect pussy sat so prettily on his tongue. He loved everything about it.

Because she had such lovely shaped, full, hips and thighs, even her cleft was perfect too. Soft and so, so, gorgeous when he cupped it in his hand. Feeling her breath hitch when he did. That was one of his favourite things to do to her. Slink up behind her, and press his hand down the front of her skirt. Cupping her entirely in his hand. Making her head thrown back on his shoulder, as she cries out in bliss. And then he’d withdraw his hand and suck away the taste of her that lay wet on his fingers.

“I’ve been dying to eat you out from behind baby…” He grumbles. Dragging his teeth across her rosy wet lips.

She was so wet and he could feel her clit, pulsing, with need when he dragged the tip of his tongue across it. Drinking in all the wetness she gave him like he could get drunk on it. Slick, wet, slapping and slurping sounds filled the air as he ate her, his face nudging closer and closer into her. Her slick running entirely down his chin and over his lips, into his hungry, waiting mouth. Both big hands of his caress the twin globes of her gorgeous soft ass as he does.

“This is what happens to my naughty girl when she forgets to wear her panties when she comes and sees me.  I swear to god baby, if that guy got his filthy hand on my pussy. I would have had to kill him where he stood.” He moans seriously, voice husky and full of sex, nuzzling in to lap mercilessly at her clit.

He delights in the fully filthy wet squish of two of his thick fingers being stuffed into her. Crooking against that soft little spot he knew so well how to work by now. She was dripping so much it was trickling down her thighs to her knees, nearly. She writhes and wriggled back against his fingers curving so deliciously into her. He drags then out and plunges them slowly. Feeling her wetness dribble over his hand, just as it was drooling down her cleft and thighs. Stringing off his fingers.

“I’ll always love how this pussy drools just for me, baby.” He smirks. Pressing wet kisses to the backs of her thighs. Sucking a love bite there that made her squeak. Loudly. He smiles, releasing her sensitive skin with a wet pop, feeling her tremble and jerk as he continued to fuck her with his fingers. When his thumb swipes across her clit, she bucks. Her whine so high in volume it shattered into the air around them.

He slowly drags his fingers from her. Letting her feel every bit of stimulation he could grant. The gasp she gives him makes his aching dick leak even more.

“I think you need this cock in you, don’t you, doll?” He asks her, she steps aside and twists around, in his arms, chest to chest, once more. Dragging him close was her answer.

She throws her hands around him and presses her mouth to his. Kissing away the taste of her wetness she found there. She fists her hands into his t-shirt and drags him close. He breaks apart One hand of his desperately works at his fly, tearing the denim open to release his straining hard on. The other, tears down one strap of her dress, and pulls her neckline down, rubbing friction on her stiff nipples, before he leans down and takes one into his mouth. Feeling the shape with his teeth, tugging, sucking, biting. Laving over her sweet rosy red nubs with his tongue. She panted, thoroughly feeling that her naked dress had served its purpose. It was now almost a belt of useless fabric pooled around her waist. She still had her heels on, too. The mood he was in, he wouldn’t have time to shed them before he wanted to be inside her. He’d want to feel them stabbing into his legs when he fucks her.

He mumbles and moans, sucking on her breast. Muffling his words down into the sucking kisses he lays there. “Mmfnm. Baby. I’m gonna fuck you now, and I’m not gonna stop til I hit the back of your damn pussy.”

“Please, Kylo. Fuck me…” She gasps, drawing him in for a kiss that was all tongues and teeth when their mouths met. That’s all she’d been thinking about the second she stepped in this club tonight. She needed to feel him. Needed to be wrapped around him as he plucked her apart in pleasure. She wanted to be entwined with the man who made her heart sing.

He hoists her up in his arms, wrapping her legs about his muscular waist. Feeling her ankles cross at his back, her daggering heels pressing sharply into his back. Where his t-shirt had ridden up. He feels her skin brush against his. It was cold in this room, yet they are both sweating, moaning messes who didn’t even feel the cold. He self-indulgently strokes himself for a second. Grabbing his hand around the heavy base of his shaft, before pressing forwards and spearing into her. His thick head parting her slick lips and sliding home in one push.

A string of curses escape her lips in a whine as he begins to push and tug in and out of her. His thick heavy length dragging along her velvet hot walls. His mouth seeks her own and bites and nips her into a kiss. It was hot, messy and gorgeous. There was nothing neat about this. This was need. Pure and simple.

He begins to thrust in earnest. She grabs one meaty shoulder as he drives his beautiful cock up into her. Angling her hips to reach the best angle. He releases one leg, and winds the other round his hip, nuzzling those full lips down into her neck. Again, the air is filled with the wet slurp and slap of their bodies meeting. He can feel her wetness swill around his cock. Which delights him to know he was doing an absolutely thorough job. “Oh, Sid…” He groans into her ear when she clenched, fluttering that perfect pussy around his length. Making his teeth burrow down hard on his lower lip, and his eyes slide back into his head.

“You’re mine baby. You know that don’t you? Fuck-“ He curses. “This pussy is mine. This body is mine. And every single part of me belongs to you. It did the second I slid into you that first time we fucked. I was yours Sid.” He explains. Finding her hand on his shoulder and twining his fingers through hers. His other hand stayed to her naked hip as he rocked them together into ecstasy.

“I wanted to be yours from the minute I met you.” Sid confesses, her hand on his neck. Her head resting on his shoulder as she panted. “I couldn’t think it then without it being abhorrent…I was married, I shouldn’t have been so attracted to you” She looks up, meeting his eyes. His cheeks still flushed. But now, his eyes were so full of love, she could barely speak. “But now? My god. How you have me now. Kylo Ren.” She tells him. He moulds their mouths together for that confession, groaning and grunting into her. She pulls away to moan loudly as he strikes a certain spot that has her clenching and wailing his name.

“Oh, Kylo. I can’t-ah…” She whines. His heavy head brushing over her g-spot. Producing a sensation that was almost painful, to burst through her pussy. He cups her closer.

“Yes, you can.” He commands. “You can, baby. For me. Cum for me like that…” He moans.

His mouth open, slack jawed, breathing hot against her clammy neck. He picked up the pace. Spearing deeper and deeper until she was sure she’d burst. He was so thick and hitting so deep she felt like she’d split open any second. She spent what felt like hours writhing in his embrace. He cupped her closer, jabbing deeper and deeper. The wet sounds of her pussy only increasing now as he fucked her deeper. Her brain began to unravel. She was moaning so hard now, she was sobbing.

“Take it baby, come on, take it…” He snaps hotly against her neck. “Take me deep. Take my dick.” He growls, he was a hairs breadth away from cumming too. Spilling deep in her.

Her toes curl and she can feel her thighs are almost rigid stiff. When he sneaks one hand down and thumbs her clit in furiously fast circles, she sobs, arches, cries and cums.

Her groans are the sweetest things he’s ever heard. And she has never cum like this before. Her orgasm burst out of her, literally. And now she see’s why he made her persevere with it. Her pussy constricted so tight about him it was almost impossible how tight she was. Her body went stock still and he could feel a hot wet stream flow from her, down his cock, and drenching both their thighs. Dripping and spattering to the floor below. He cums with a loud cry, his head thrown back, shuddering into her with the fact that he’d stimulated her G-spot enough to make her squirt all over him.

He slows his pace, easing out to empty every last drop into her. Where he threw his head back, he pants, looking back to her with a chuckle. Seeing her sagged, spent, against the wall, and no wonder…

“Fuck. Babydoll. You really know how to squirt over my cock, huh?” He teases with a smile as he leans in and worries the sweaty skin of her neck with his teeth. She groans and grabs his hair. Not surprised to find she could feel a hugely wet patch on the front of his jeans. She bites her lip and  shoves a hand to his shoulder in a half-hearted push to chide him.

“You did all the work…”

“You started it…” He holds out. “Wearing that fucking dress.” He insists. Waggling his brows as he kissed her shoulder. Before he gently eased from her warm, wet heat. Feeling the rush of them slide out. Pulling her skirt up to further see his cum dripping out of her. He always would enjoy making a cream pie out of her wonderful pussy. He tucks his spent self back into his briefs.  His jeans still spilled open, undone, slung on his big tattooed hips.

“Alright. That’s it. I’m gonna have to take you home right this second.” He growls “Whether you like it, or not.” He declares. Wrapping arms around her waist and nuzzling into her neck once more. Nipping her earlobe with his sharp teeth.

“Why is that?” She asks with a purring, spent smile. Her cheeks were rosy with lust, hair mussed. And he’d successfully made her blush creep down her beautiful chest and flourish on the tops of her breasts too.

“Cause I need to make you do that again. But with my mouth this time. Let’s see if you can’t try and drown me, Doll…” He growls with a smile.

“I might want to use my mouth on you, first…” She points out.

He smirks. Slapping her ass, hard. She bites her lip and smiles.

“Try and stop me baby…” He dares.

 

~


	15. NOT A CHAPTER, BUT A HEADCANON/DRABBLE!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had to share. just had too, TTFN

Okkkyy. So. This is completely Random. But I thought I’d share with you a Drabble/headcanons for Sid/Kylo that I hashed out when talking to adamsnackdriver on tumblr tonight….

So when they become an official couple. (We all know they will) They go to Kylo’s home for Christmas/Thanksgiving etc… or some family holiday gathering, and well. (as much as I h a t e the expression) The solo boys will be boys...

 

 

  * So. They’re in Kylo’s old teenage bedroom doing the do..


  * Sids on top riding that gorgeous, tattooed hunk of hers.


  * And it’s slow and intimate and lovey. Hot and romantic coupling. Grabbing hips, kisses on necks, nuzzling, groaning and grunting as she rides him.


  * But let’s face it, Kylo still moans and dirty talks like a fucking porn star in heat. No matter the loving mood.


  * When lo and behold, an enraged Ben nearly breaks the damn door as he shoves the -unlocked- thing inwards. And stands angrily in the doorway. His big, tall body blocking out most of the light from the hallway beyond.


  * Kylo moves the covers across her naked back to shield her body from his brothers view. Sid gasps and buries herself deeper into Kylo’s big arms and chest for protection. 


  * His big paws on her arced spine, and covering a great deal of her sweaty back, as he yells at his triplet, panting angrily. His eyes wild. Still soaked in lust. Hair sticking to his brow. Watching Ben from over Sid’s shoulder. 


  * He is practically  s n a r l i n g  like an enraged animal whose territory was being trespassed onto.


  * Sid turns her head to look at the intruder. Panting through the exertion of sex just like Kylo is. Tendrils of hair stuck to her flushed neck in soft curls. 


  * She can feel his sweating torso crushed to hers. Pressing into her hard nipples. She is flushed pink from cheek to chest. And his hands vice the thin bed sheet taut across her back, hands  either side of her hips, to keep the image of her naked body all to himself.


  * “Ben. Get the hell out! Before I come over there and castrate you with my bare hands.” Kylo warns with a, very, angered scowl.


  * Even if he was still technically inside her. He still could, and would, slaughter a man for intruding in on them like this...


  * (He’s an ex-marine. After all. Which means he was now in his head plotting the perfect place to bury Bens body) 


  * Seriously. If looks could kill. Ben would be dead right where he stood.


  * Ben continues to stand there - butt naked. Holding a pillow over his groin to at least preserve his modesty. (Not that he has much, mind)


  * The guy has just one sock on. A crown of walnut-black mussed hair like a dark halo on his head, cheeks and chest red and flushed.


  * His eyes are angry and irritated. And there’s a sheen of sweat collecting in that big divet of his collarbone. Running down, trickling, between his meaty pec's.


  * Sid notices (for the first time and hopefully see’s it for the last time) that Ben has a tattoo ‘Ride or Die Trying.’ arced in thick black letters on his lower groin just over his happy trail.


  * Practically sign posting his dick.


  * Cause it’s Ben-Fucking-Solo. And of course he does.


  * He snarls at the both of them loudly. “Can you two shut the hell up? I’m trying to focus on watching porn in here!” He growls. Put out.


  * “Kylo. I know you’ve got a girlfriend who is the real life incarnation of Jessica-fucking-rabbit. But It’s fucking hard to rub one out when all I can hear is you two enthusiastically introducing your wet parts to each other, over and over.” He yowls like a hurt, angry puppy.


  * Before he flourishes his exit, turning to give them both a view of his ass. slamming the door and leaving Kylo and Sid to look at each other for a second in awkward terse silence.


  * They both totally burst out laughing. 


  * Trying in vain to carry on, as it were.


  * Even with the thumps and the very loud cliched  whiny porn sounds of “oh-yeaaaaa! oh yeaaaaaa baby!!” and girly moans coming from the next room as Ben turned his monitor up full blast.


  * They soldier on. Kylo taking the sheet off her and nuzzling his nose into her sweaty neck as he makes her move over his dick one again. Feeling her pussy flutter and clench around him.


  * That’s before they hear Matty call through from the next room, choking. Through the thin wall.


  * “O-hhhm. My god. Ben. That’s gross” The littlest blonde solo butts into the conversation.


  * Oh yeah. Ok. This house has very thin walls.


  * Sid huffs the hair out of her sticky face grinding down on Kylo. Fighting off a smile. 


  * (Which doesn’t go well)


  * He sucks on her breast and moves his big paws over her hips. Smiling against her as she growls...


  * “This family. I swear to fucking god…”


  * Kylo just grins, nibbling her collarbone.


  * Bonus points to adamsnackdriver for this wicked suggestion;


  * Or Ben is being, obnoxiously, loud with his thanksgiving  ~~booty-call~~  ‘date’ in his room. Being the usual jackrabbit self in bed that he is.


  * Did he mention his bed squeaks?


  * A lot


  * A hell of a lot.


  * Kylo angrily storms in and tells his brother, and his latest  ~~date~~ piece of ass, loudly; “Thanksgiving is family time. Ben. How could you? Listen honey. Grab your cosmetically enhanced cans and hit the bricks.” He suggests.


  * Ben glares at his brother with daggers in his eyes. He was so close, too. about to blow his load in,  ~~Candy? Crystal? Tiffany? Scarlet?~~ ~~No~~. Sasha, was it?


  * But before Ben can get a word out. Kylo closes in for the kill;


  * “You told her about the congenital herpes, though, right Ben?” He tuts. Before grinning like a mad man and leaving the room. Pulling the door shut after him.


  * The latch barely clicks in the lock and Kylo absolutely, beams, when he hears a scream of “HERPES?” Shatter across his brothers bedroom through the thin door.


  * Ben’s  ~~date~~  fuck buddy is out of there faster than he can blink.     


  * He’s never seen a girl dress so fast or exit so quickly. Usually he was the one leaping out half dressed after the sex concluded, and the sheets weren’t even cooled yet.


  * He growls and flops back on his bed. Sweaty. Still leaking, aching, hard. And cursing Kylo’s name to hell and back.


  * Needless to say; Ben doesn’t sleep very well that night.


  * Especially not with the vigorous sex noises coming through the wall from Kylo’s room.


  * Seriously? It sounded like a shoot for a sensationally loud porno film was taking place in his elder brothers bedroom. 


  * “Oh. Sid. Fuck. Baby-yeah. Oh-holy....Shit.yeah. Doll. You take me so fucking well-Jesus. Never had girl who could take me like you do, baby...fuck.“ Followed by pants and sinfully loud moans from his brother that he doesn’t even want to guess at the origin of. 


  * (He can totally guess)


  * And he is beyond jealous at the fact that someone in this house was getting head, and it wasn’t him!?


  * Honestly?


  * O f f e n d e d.


  * He thumps his pillow, smacking it and pinning it over his head, across both his ears, when it became Kylo’s turn. 


  * He sure knew how to treat a lady in bed.


  * Clearly his monk like brooding brother was making up for years of his almost celibate existence, now he had a gorgeous curvy counterpart to fuck through the mattress. 


  * Boy did the guy have stamina too. This was well into hour three. 


  * Sid sounded like she was having a very fine time. 


  * “Oh, Kylo. Please. God. Yes. More-mmmfn. Oh, Ohhhhh. You’re so big baby. Oh. God. I need more.” 


  * “I’m gonna give you more, Doll.” He heads him growl. She whines  l o u d l y  after he purrs those dirty words at her. 


  * “Fuck. Your pussy always tastes so sweet. Sits just right on my tongue like it was made for me. I’m never washing my sheets again. I want them scented of your gorgeous dripping wet cunt.” 


  * “Hear how wet you are for me, Doll.” 


  * Ben was suddenly harbouring the desire to wash out his ears with soap. 


  * Not. Ok. 


  * At the last count (and he hates that he knows this) they’d changed positions six times. Judging by the soft rustle of  bed sheets. Headboard clattering into the wall every two goddamned seconds. And creaking mattress protesting at its ferocious use. And the sound of footsteps on the floorboards. Shuffling about.


  * The next unhappy morning, Ben trudges down for breakfast. Grumpy. Moody. Blue balls. And he is in a very bad way.


  * Some people don’t function well on no sleep?


  * Well. Ben Solo can’t function without getting his usual sex fix. Or pussy fix. Or ass fix. 


  * Kylo and Sid are in the kitchen all loved up. 


  * A completely sickening display of amorous domesticity that belonged on a hallmark valentines card. Or a Nora Ephron Rom-Com.


  * And fucking hell- 


  * To pour salt in the proverbial wound…


  * They are both still fucking mussed.


  * Cause they totally had so much sex the night before and twenty minutes ago after they woke up. 


  * And will have again, loudly, in the shower in fifteen minutes time after bacon and coffee. 


  * Ben growls at the both of them. Bags under his eyes. Hair tangled. His expression icy.


  * They wind him up like h e l l


  * “You look tired. Didn’t you sleep well?”  Kylo grins, as he stands at the stove. Flipping bacon with a spatula. Shirtless, black pyjamas slung low on his big hips. His tattooed biceps flexing as he flips bacon over in the pan.


  * Sid is sat at the kitchen island. still dewy. Love-bites so obviously scattered across her neck. Hair absolutely wrecked. Sporting the I-just-got-laid glow that Ben recognises so well.


  * ~~Pair of Bastards. Ben thinks to himself.~~


  * She snorts into her coffee cup when Kylo speaks up.     


  * She was also dressed in, what Ben liked to call, typical apres-sex wear. 


  * Her form drowning in the size of Kylos old Siouxsie & the Banshees t-shirt, that hung off one shoulder. And she was wearing his grey D&G boxers. 


  * They’d had the loudest, roughest most porn star moaning, sheet clawing, bed breaking, sweat dripping, sex in the world last night.


  * “Yeah Ben. What’s up? You look a lil… blue.” Sid pipes up. Grinning over the rim of her coffee mug. 


  * Kylo resists the urge to go over and high five her.


  * Or snog her.


  * “Both of you. Eat my entire ass. And fuck, the fuck off.” He snarls


  * Grabbing coffee enough to sustain his foul horny mood, and leaving the room, as he gives them both the finger.


  * Matt shuffles downstairs in his batman pyjamas. Blonde hair matted from sleep. Glasses on. Grinning.


  * “I love you guys…” He confesses. Hugging his oldest brother from behind. Quickly stealing some bacon and then he crosses the kitchen island and viciously clamps Sid into a solid hug.


  * Cause let’s face it. Ben has been having the  l o u d e s t  sex in this house in his bedroom for years. It’s about time he had some damn payback and a taste of his own medicine.


  * Kylo growls from the stove watching his little brother hug her.


  * His woman. His.


  * H I S


  * Did he mention his?


  * Sid smiles. Giggling softly. And she kisses Matt sweetly on the cheek and ruffles his hair. Hugging him back.


  * Matt blushes. “You’re fogging up my glasses.” He chuffs. Cheeks redder than ever before. Contrasting so comically with his bright, lemon coloured hair.


  * Kylo nearly snaps the damn spatula  in half.


  * He points it accusingly at Matt across the kitchen.


  * They both jump a foot into the air when Kylo’s booming voice shatters the sounds of sizzling bacon, and the soft flutter of birdsong chiming in from the sun drenched window.


  * “Back up. Hands in the air where I can see ‘em, Matty.” He orders in a bark.


  * He’s so moody for a guy who was getting laid all night.    


  * “He was always the broody one.” Matty gushes to Sid, for her ears only. None of them making a move to pull away from their platonic hug.


  * “Never too late for him to go through his adorable teen goth phase.” Sid laughs.


  * Matty totally hugs her tighter for that.


  * “You touch my girlfriend again. And I ram this spatula down your throat!”


  * “You’re so sensitive this morning, Kyle.”  Matt riles teasingly.


  * He manages to dodge well when the spatula is flung across the room at him.


  * Sid nearly snorts coffee up her nose she laughs so loud.



 


	16. Morning Glory, Furry Babysitters, and Stormy Sids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the first sample, a few more bits w i l l (& I mean it this time!!) be added onto the end of this one.
> 
> We've got some sweet fluffy kitchen talk to come. We've got Sid heading home (In Kylo's shirt) to relieve her babysitter (Poe) of his dog duties. And then, we're gonna see a h u g e l y angry Sid take down Hux a peg, or five, to stay away from *her* new boyfriend... 
> 
> Oh. And I’m very sorry I haven’t responded to any comments on this story yet (all 33 of them) I will get round to them each in turn at some point. (But OMG. I. L O V E how much you all love and comment on this!) honestly. Guys. It’s amazing. I love love love you all! You make me a very happy gal. 
> 
> stay tuned folkies. Watch this space. More to come... TTFN Punk xxx

 

  

-Kylo’s Uber Luxe Pad-

 

She came too slowly when the bed dipped beside her. Through closed eyelids she can hear the rustling of his thick feather duvet, crumpling around her, lifting up from her naked shoulder. She feels the bed shift again, this time on her right side.

She mumbles something _infinitely cute_ in her half-conscious, dream like state. Something that sounded like _‘grumble-daisy’_ to Kylo’s ears. He chuckles to himself as he looks at her bared naked back. She was lying face down with her arms curled under her pillow, her head facing into the bed from the right side. The covers had slid down, covering just across _the dip_ of her lower back.

Her hair was messy and thrown in front of her face. He almost chuckles at the sight of the back of it being _considerably_ mussed. It told of her spending a _great deal_ of last night on her back. He fancies he can still see _her ‘clutch’_ marks branded on the pillows. He pulls the covers across himself, before he shuffles over her, his legs bracketing hers, torso pressing down on her soft ass. His hands pressed flat into the bed either side of her shoulders.

The first contact she feels is a gentle, soft, _kiss,_ being pressed to the back of her hip. She slowly arches stretching her spine out, and wiggling her toes as she elongates her legs to ease out her calves. She inhales a deep breath as she comes too. Smiling a moan as she feels _those lips_ slowly tracking sweet kisses up her spine. She feels the tip of his nose nudge into her skin, and tendrils of his hair feathering against her back.

He’s at her shoulder blades, and is just laying a kiss there, when she moans and one hand comes up to move the mussed hair out of her space. Blinking up into the _airy white_ space of his bedroom, straining at her _yet unawake_ eyes.

Much like the man himself, his apartment was a thing _of beauty_. An ultra-luxe, ‘ _U_ ’ shaped two storey loft. The middle intersected with a thriving evergreen patio garden filled with manicured French blue shrubs, and light strung eucalyptus trees. The building was an old converted brewery, and had huge grey cast iron pillars dotted all around. He had the penthouse floor, _naturally_. The lift doors opened right into his hallway. Stepping in the door, directly to the left was the home gym which had a wall of windows looking out onto the rooftop terrace garden. Past the gym there was the indoor pool _. (indoor pool for crying out loud)_ He’d told her the best time to use it was in summer with all the patio doors thrown open to let in the humid, summery New York air. If you walked straight on from the hallway, you entered the open plan kitchen, living room, and study come library area. Cause _holy heck_ , the man sure _had a lot_ of books. An entire fifteen feet by fifteen feet wall, floor to ceiling to _be exact_. Ladders helping ease the way to the highest shelf. _His total of books could almost give the New York library a run for its money._

Sid _wasn’t_ surprised. He’d said in his youth that he’d been a reader. Stuck with his head in pages for his studies. She believed he still was. _Book-worming was a hard habit to kick_.

The bedroom was directly above the kitchen. Half cutting into the space, up in the ceiling. A spiral staircase twisting off the reading nook and wood burning fireplace, by the kitchen island. _If she wasn’t so in love with him she’d have hated him for having this penthouse haven. Festoon lights decorating the tasteful Italian slate grey patio. The five star kitchen, the wood burning fireplace in the bedroom and the cosy reading nook. A huge, deep squashy sofa filled with cushions, and hemmed in by old worn rugs tramped on the floor._

This was such a homely place to be. Such a stark comparison to the clinical, stark black space that was Star-Killer. His nightclub may have been where _his heart_ was. His lifeblood. His tenacity, and where his darker, more _dangerous_ , untamed self survived. Navigating a _cut-throat_ business with shady partners and unsavoury figures encroaching his territory.

 _But right here?_ In this gorgeous, big, bright, airy, warm space. Filled with books, his dog, his music, light and comfort. This _cherished space_ was where Sid could see the man’s _soft, humble soul_ _spilling out_.

She shuffles in bed, looking over her shoulder to lock her, _bleary sleep encrusted eyes_ , with her hulking bed mate. Her uterus did _‘Notice me’_ cartwheels in her abdomen at the _thigh-clenching_ sight of him.

Bed head hair, that raven mane _swirled_ and _mussed_ from where it met with his pillow in the night. Even his eyes still looked a _tad sleepy_. That big tattooed chest looming over her back. She clutches the covers to her chest and shimmies around to be _face up, under_ him. _Replicating in alarming alacrity many of the positions they tried out last night._

“Morning, _Doll_ …” He smiles.

“ _Funny._ It’s been _a long_ time since I woke up _smiling…”_ Sid rasps. Her vocal chords _husking_ into life for the day. He chuckles and leans down to kiss her sternum. His eyes flick down to where she had covered her breasts with the thick white covers.

 _Somewhat playful_ amber eyes seek out her from a shaggy black fringe. One big paw reaches out and slowly drags the covers off her chest, letting her bare breasts spring free.

“I spent _most_ of last night _inside_ you baby. _You can’t_ now try and hide my _favourite pair_ of tits _from_ _me_ …” He tells her. Leaning down, pressing his body between her legs and nuzzling his lips and nose into her soft cleavage. _Or, what little_ there was of it as she was on her back. Both things spilling off to the side unattractively. _He didn’t seem deterred by their lack of sexiness and appeal in this position._

She sighs happily. _Now this was a way to live._

_A tattooed sex god who couldn’t keep his hands off her. Who had the stamina of a horny teenager and the prowess of a man. A heady combination. And to top it off, she felt better than she had done in weeks. Perhaps it was her new steadfast diet. Sex, wine, and cigarettes replacing all culinary sustenance._

“You start _that again_ and we may stay here forever, _and die_ of starvation _and_ dehydration.” Sid points out as he presses a kiss _directly on_ her rosy nipple. His hot breath and rumbling laugh echoed through onto her skin. She shivers and her toes curl. His lips had barely been on her for _five seconds_ and already her nipples _were roused_ to stiff points _because_ of _him_.

“ _Worse ways_ to die..” He grumbles. His big tongue flickering out to taste her nipple. Her thighs _clamp_ about his ribs.

She wraps her arms around his shoulders and shifts her thighs to cross her ankles at his back. _Tugging_ his body down into hers. He crashes into her at her urging, hips and groin melding into her own. He lands down on her with a soft growl on his lips. _That flare in his eyes and the way his morning wood twitched against her let her know he had a little spark of horniness at her taking charge…_

“ _Well_. If you can’t _beat em’_ …” Sid smiles. He beams down at her, laying a line of kisses up her throat. When he works up to her jaw, and kisses the corner of her mouth, she turns her head away.

“ _Morning breath_ , love. This is for _your own_ safety.” She says wincing out of his lips way. Hux had always been _a stickler and insisted_ he was thoroughly _put off_ kissing in the morning before either one of them had brushed their teeth.

“I’m a grown ass man. I don’t _give a shit_ about morning breath. If I wanna kiss you. _I’m gonna_ kiss you…” He assures her. Leaning in and kissing her, _firmly, solidly_ on the mouth. She giggles into the kiss. Cupping the back of his head as he smooched her into the next dimension. _How did he still manage to taste deliciously of peppermints?_

“You strike me as a man _who just takes_ what he wants…” Sid rasps in a smile against his mouth when he pulls away. He smirks against her neck as he nibbles a love bite onto her. _She could feel it._

“Course I _fucking do_. Doll. How do you think I _won you?”_ He rasps cheekily in between sucks.

She scoffs a smile. _Unbelieving her ears._

“ _Question.._ ” She asks. Rising up to hold herself up on her elbows. He braces himself on his arms. Those strong columns of tattooed muscle keeping him leaning over her naked body. Skin to skin as they stayed entwined together. She drops her thighs from his back, and tilts his head and shifts a matted coil of hair off her face. He had _to try_ and focus on her face, and not her love bitten neck, or her gorgeous nipples that were _just begging_ to be in his mouth. _He was a man. When the opportunity came to look at naked breasts, all thought went very rapidly southwards._

“If Hux _hadn’t_ …” She trails off. “Or if he never got caught out… What would have happened to, _us, this?”_ She dares to ask. He is silent for a moment as he digest her comment. One hand still idly following the shape of one strand of hair with his fingertip.

“I would have _stayed_ in my sad-single-lane, and been a _very heartsore wreck_ for you.” He tells her seriously.

“I can respect that marriage vows _are sacred_ as much as the next man.” He adds. “But, that _awful night_ , when I found _he wasn’t_ being loyal to you. _Well,_ I admit, I was something of _a shameless_ opportunist in pursuing _you_ further.” He confesses, with _that crooked_ grin that set her heart aflame.

“Shameless opportunist who sends _a married woman_ lingerie…” She recalls with a cheeky smile. His eyes _sparkle naughtily._ He chuckles at himself.

“ _As I said, Doll_. If I _didn’t_ push my luck, I may never have _seen you again_. I sure as _hell_ didn’t _want that.”_ He tells her.

“You know. Kylo. Part of me is still so _sore_ and _hateful_ for what Hux did to me. To _our_ fifteen year marriage, to let it _end_ like that. But you know….A _solid 98%_ of me, couldn’t be _more glad_ that he did. Because that led me…. _to you.”_ She tells him seriously.

He kisses her forehead for _that sweet little_ confession. And before he could stop himself, he found words brewing and bubbling up in his big chest. And before he could clamp them in. They managed to _wriggle out_ past his teeth.

“ _Sid._ Do you think we could…” He pauses, mulling over the right words. “Can we….” Again he struggles for the words. “Do you think we _can start_ classing what _we have, share_ , as _a, ugh…”_  He swallows.

 _She breaks out into the biggest smile_. _This big, powerful, muscular, man mountain, was blushing and stumbling over asking her to be more than his date._

“ _Fuck it.”_ He curses. “I love _the goddamn shit_ out of you Sid. Will you be my girlfriend?” He dares.

“And _I’m not_ just saying this cause you’re _naked, and under_ me. Though that is a _very distracting_ plus. _But. Please?_ I _don’t care_ if its too soon. That _ex-bastard_ wasted fifteen years with you and I’m not gonna beat around the bush and wait another _few months_ to say I love you, Doll. _I love you now_. And I don’t care _if its- scary_ , or _too soon_ , or insane. I know what I feel. _And, fucking tough_ if you think otherwise…Cause I damn sure _, fucking. Love…..You_ …” He rambles. Trailing off.

Sid blinks a smile up at him. Before she bites her bottom lip and shakes her head lightly. Her eyes glimmering with unshed happy tears.

“And I just realised I literally _shouted very_ aggressively _at you_ , that I love you, _four times…”_ He babbles, nervously running a hand through his hair.

She cups _his big stupid face_ and leans up to mould her lips to his. _Because fuck morning breath_. _She needed to kiss him right this moment._

His hand that had just carded through his hair, cupped her back as she gravitated towards him to embrace him fully. If she could, she’d wrap herself around those big limbs and _never let go._

“It’s _never too soon_.” She tells him. “I _love you_ too, Kylo. And _yes, I will_ be your girlfriend.” She admits with a _great big_ grin. Her hands shifting into his hair as she cupped either cheek. Her thumb brushing over his yellowed bruise.

“I believe it is _at this point_ in the movie when a really _low and slow_ John Legend song, starts playing.” Sid adds. Admiring his beauty as sunlight filtered in through the big window. Painting ivory gold light onto his inked skin. She watched the early morning sunshine tangle in his hair. Even in the pure, unhindered sunlight, it was still the _darkest black_. Tinged only _ever so slightly_ with a russet hint to some of the strands.

“If this _was_ a movie, I’d have woke up _with suspiciously good_ hair…” Kylo mumbles. Leaning in. Tucking his hands behind her kneecaps and mumbling a deep rumble of a groan onto her lips. His pelvis grinding his _morning wood_ into her cleft. _The stone-hard length of him grazing so invitingly against her mons…_

She’d _felt that_ impressive thing, pressing up against her _even_ in her sleep too. After they drifted off last night. She’d felt those big hands draw down her sides, cup her ass, before sliding over her hips, and _yanking_ her body back into his. His nose nuzzling into his neck as he buried his face in the crook there, to smell her hair. She slept with his biceps forming a python grip on her waist. His snuffling moans rumbling into her neck. _He was a hardcore sleep cuddler_. _Thank goodness she didn’t have to get up to relieve herself in the night, if it had come to trying to get those arms off her, she’d have been hopelessly stuck._

“It looks pretty damn perfect to me… You _ruggedly handsome_ fool.” Sid smiles. Nuzzling her nose into his. Grinning like a lunatic. His _simple sweet_ confession minutes ago having kicked the herd of butterflies in her stomach into life.

“You’re only saying that cause _I’m here. And naked_ …” He growls. His hands sliding up her arms. Not caring in the slightest that they were too flabby (as she’d stated) his fingers graze along her skin, before stopping at her palms and pin her flat to the bed. Crossing her wrists and holding them there with one hand. Her body writhed up into his as his free hand stroked along her side, feeling over her ribs, sliding tantalisingly across her soft stomach. She gasps when his hand strokes lower. Her cheeks start to _flush red._

“My _favourite blush_ …” He smirks, dipping his head to the crook of her neck once more, his thick fingers splaying idly to _ghost lightly_ over her sex. _Tracing, teasing_.

“I think _our rom-com_ could _very_ realistically turn into a very _filthy porno, Doll_.” He whispers into her ear, his big fingertips finding her clit. Making her throw her head back to the snowy pillows with a groan.

Their _oncoming_ morning glory moment was _rudely_ interrupted when a blur of white fur dotted with black splodges, _hurls itself_ onto the bed across from the spiral stairs and _launches_ into them both. A curious wet black nose, velveteen ears, and a lolloping tongue nuzzles excitedly into Kylo’s shoulder. Trying to jam his furry head _under_ his owners armpit, one big paw at the end of a sinewy leg clawed at his shoulder. Kylo sighs and sags against her, drawing his hand away from being pressed between her legs. Sid covers her mouth with the back of her hand, and laughs as she watches him glare at the interfering canine. Who now sat, perfectly contented on the bed, wagging his long black and white tail as he looked expectantly at them both.

“Orb. Buddy. I _swear to god_ I’ll give you to a shelter. you great _spotted, clam Jam_.” He berates his dog. Pointing a _stern finger_ at him. Orbit’s _only response_ is to lean forwards, and whine as he nuzzled his shoulder. Leaning down to lie on his front, paws stretched out before him as he rumbled a growling whine once more. Clearly _seeking after something_ …

Sid took pity and reached over, tuning on her side to fuss bits’ ear. Taking velvet ears and his head in both hands and _fussing_ him. _Cooing inane love_ at the sweet animal.

Kylo peers down at her from under his fringe. _Affronted_.

“I was _sexing here_ …” He points out grumpily to Sid. Orbit stretched one paw up and tries to catch Sid’s arm in play. She turns her face up toward him and gives him a sweet smile.

“I think Orbit’s stomach _says otherwise…”_ Sid tells him with a grin patting the dogs spotty flank. Kylo grits his teeth. Growling and placing a loving kiss to her shoulder before he slides off her. Letting the covers pool over her, he walks naked to fetch his clothes from his walk in, just to the left of the bed, through the adjoining room. _She completely checks out his perfect pert ass as he walks away._

“Your dads got a _really_ _nice ass…”_ Sid leans in and whispers to Orbit. Smiling as he licks her nose.

“I heard that. _Horn-dog_.” His voice booms through from his walk in.

When he reappears, he is wearing soft, dark pyjama pants draped low on his hipbones. _No shirt_. But he walks across and hands her a white dress shirt and a pair of plaid boxers. He leans over and kisses her again, she moans greedily into the kiss, and tugs her fingers through his hair. Bringing her giant man’s form down _for more._

“I’ll be in the kitchen. You _may need_ to wear these cause If I see you semi naked in my kitchen in _that_ dress again I can’t promise I won’t _bend you over_ the counter, _Doll.”_ He growls.

“I _love it_ when a man says that to me.” She teases. His hand slips down and pinches her ass before backing away. Nudging his chin at Orbit.

“Come on _cock-blocker_ …” He growls to his dog. Orbit yowls happily and leaps off the bed, bounding after Kylo as they both head down into the kitchen.

 

 

~


	17. MORE ADDED ON THE END!!!!! ANOTHER DRABBLE. I’M SORRY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not more of a Drabble. As it is an essay. Dear god. Enjoy this long ass ramble of words that drifts off in the middle, you gorgeous people. Much much love from me. Xxx TTFN

 

 

 

Yes. Oh yes. A n o t h e r ~~headcanon~~ /essay/drabble. (Do you all hate me for posting these instead of chapters yet?)

Also it’s so fucking long. I’m so sorry! This needs to be bound in a volume. That’s how long it is.

So. I started thinking about Sid’s relationship with Matty. It would be entirely more platonic and deeper than Bens. I imagine Ben makes porny jokes. Comments. And always says dirty funny things to Sid. Though there will be a moment when Ben lets his playboy facade down for her or, he does something genuinely sweet for her to show her he’s not just a player.

But her and Matty develop this very sweet, genuine, bond. And Sid being Sid. When she learns of Matty’s being bullied/picked on/teased by his university house mates, much like her Kylo, she pulls on the Super Woman cape for the littlest Solo;

 

 

  * So. It surfaces over their usual Friday night Dinner. At Kylo’s.


  * Sid has very strict rules about mandatory attendance for all three, of the Solo Boys. And there is a dress code too. At least a button up shirt. And a nice pair of shoes.


  * ‘This is family time. Family time deserves a scrub up and a clean shirt.’ So she says.


  * “I’m looking at you. Ben Solo.” 


  * “What are you talking about. I am always presentable?”


  * “Last week you showed up in cargo shorts, a three day old shirt with beer stains on it, a five o’clock shadow A N D that shirt had ‘I love shaved beaver’ written on it.”


  * “And don’t get me started on the fact you still reeked of weed.” She adds. 


  * “Forgive me, for having a full time job.” Ben whines.


  * “You literally texted me last night telling me that you had the munchies at 3am and was eating Chinese chicken salad with your fingers.” Matt piped up. 


  * “I have a full time job I still manage to shower.” Kylo interjects with a smile over the rim of his red wine glass. 


  * She made allowances for Matty’s sneakers and his terrible but cute taste in jumpers.


  * The other one, however, gets no special dispensations...


  * Tonight the pain-in-the-ass middle child is in fine fettle. As usual.


  * Ben turns up in a completely disgusting t-shirt. With the words “3 things to do with a pussy: Lick it. Shave it. Play with it.’ slogan emblazoned on the chest with a crude picture of a cartoon man holding a cat. 


  * He grins like a wolf at Sid as he swaggers in wearing it. With dark jeans and Chelsea boots. A bottle of red wine in one hand. 


  * “Evening.” Ben leers. Calling across to her as he swaggers in.


  * She’s at the kitchen island. Apron on over her dress. Tossing a salad. When she sees him, and the slogan shirt, she sighs and grits her teeth. Placing both hands down thunking the salad spoons into the bowl.


  * She glares at him. 


  * “One thing. I ask only O N E thing of you every Friday. Benjamin.” Sid accuses. Taking the bottle of wine from his hand in a snatch. Still scowling at him.


  * “One thing. One  t i n y  thing. For 4 hours of your entire night...” She carries on. Very aggressively now dressing her salad.


  * He leans closer to her. Elbows braced on the kitchen island. And steals a salad leaf from her bowl.


  * “I can take it off if it bothers you?” He grins. Lifting the hem of it up to show her a divinely sculpted torso and that ‘ride’ tattoo over his groin. As well as an upside down cross, and a small ‘666’ from The Omen inked on his left hipbone


  * Appropriate, really, that he should bear the sign of the devil. 


  * “You enjoy being impossible. Don’t you?” Sid smiles. Though she is still glaring in that spiky, cold way of hers that Ben thinks makes her look trés French. 


  * “Impossibly handsome. Impossibly charming. Impossibly great in bed...” he winks. Grabbing himself a Budweiser from the fridge.


  * Sid shakes her head as she smiles. Expertly drizzling their lemon Dijon vinaigrette over their salad. The (two) family sized lasagne’s she made earlier, sizzling away to perfection in the oven. Three large garlic bread ciabattas too. 


  * (Cause these boys sure can  e a t )


  * Especially with her cooking.


  * Matt swears Sid’s Banana and Nutella bread is heaven on Earth. 


  * Ben would write sonnets to her Herbed Lamb chops with warm potato and chorizo salad. (And he is no poet)


  * Kylo however? Would never admit it.(He insists  a l l  of her cooking is his favourite) She’s finally sussed it. He is a sucker for her potato, rosemary and Garlic bread. 


  * Ben stayed over one night after falling asleep on the sofa from drinking too many beers. So before her and Kylo head for bed she, of course, covers him in a blanket so he won’t get cold, and takes his shoes off for him. 


  * Cause she’s a softie™


  * Sid woke up to get a glass of water around 2am. And who does she find hunched halfway into the fridge, like a little goblin, tearing into the plate of leftover cold chops with his bare hands like a starving beast? That’s right. Ben. 


  * Kylo swoops into the kitchen, links a hand around Sid’s waist and plucks a kiss onto her forehead. 


  * “You better not be traumatising my girlfriend again....” He warns, with a cautionary smile, his thumb stroking over Sid’s hip as she reaches forwards and pours him and herself, glass of wine. His favourite Malbec.  


  * “Only the usual amount...” Sid smiles. Beaming across at Ben.


  * He blows her a kiss back. 


  * She hands the glass back to him, turning round in his arms as he brackets her into the kitchen counter. He thanks her with a languid kiss. 


  * “Yo. Sid & Nancy. Get a room if you’re gonna start swapping tonsils...” Ben barks across as he lounges on the barstool opposite and swigs his beer. 


  * Kylo ignores his Kid brother and smiles at his woman as he slips his hands down her back to cup her brilliant ass over her dress. Taking two big handfuls of her ass cheeks. 


  * “In case you were wondering... she’s not Nancy. Ky. You are...” Ben tells them as he stands down his beer. And concentrating on his phone. Firing off a text to one of his many side pieces.


  * Kylo arches an inky brow down at her.


  * “You still think Friday dinners with my brothers is a great idea?” He asks sarcastically. 


  * Because this entire Friday night debacle had completely been her idea.


  * Had been ever since she and Kylo went steady. And after she met both Ben, and Matt. After she was invited to a Sunday Brunch at Leia’s beach house in the Hamptons not long after her and Kylo reached their two month mark. 


  * Needless to say, Leia was besotted from the off. As was Sid. This was the first time Kylo had brought home a girl since.... well. It had been a long time. 


  * After a great lunch of crab salad and feasting on lobsters as they are on the sunny patio overlooking the sea. It got darker and darker outside. Ben and Matt were under their mother’s diplomatic orders to do the washing up inside.


  * Kylo had wandered out to clear some more plates, looking at the gorgeous setting sun that was sinking into the reddy peach sea beyond the bay. It was almost night now. The patio that had been sunny, now surrounded by flickering candle lanterns and the soft glow of light from the windows and open doors of the beach house. Added to more by the twinkle lights wound around the decking. 


  * Lo and behold. There. Sat on the deck, in the porch swing, getting wine drunk on white wine spritzers, is Leia and Sid. Cackling like witches in a coven. 


  * Kylo curses. 


  * Because his mom has the baby box out...


  * That was  n e v e r  good.  


  * “....And this was Ben when he was four. Or is that Kylo? I could never tell them apart very well.” Leia confesses. Handing Sid a photo. He watched her take it and beam as she smiled down at the dark haired toddler on the paper. She was “aww-ing.” And “cooing” 


  * “Oh no. That is Ben.” Leia finalises. “Can tell. He always had his hands down the front of his pants.” She tsks.


  * “Hasn’t changed much then...” Kylo calls across to the ladies. Who beamed at his sudden appearance on the patio. 


  * “You get that box out again when my Sid comes back. Mother. And I’ll burn it.” He warns. Gathering the used salad bowl into his hands.


  * Leia twitches one brow as she sips more wine. “Come at me.” She threatens with the stony face she so often reserved for candidate debates on TV.


  * Kylo shakes his head. But he’s smiling. He stands the salad bowl down and crosses to his Sid with a blanket in his hands. He drapes it around her and softly lays a quick kiss on her forehead.


  * “Don’t stay out here gossiping for too long.” He smiles. Kissing her head once more before heading back inside. The wind was definitely picking up. Whipping around them. Wind chimes danced on the breeze. And the smell of sun baked sand and salt swirled in on the cool night air. 


  * Leia watched her son with those warm brown eyes as that hulking figure of her eldest crossed back into the house. 


  * “He’s had a tough time. That one.” She spoke up after he left. Nodding in Kylo’s direction. Sid turned to watch him through the kitchen window.


  * “After he was drummed out the army. It was more than his sternum that was shattered. He was so broken. I thought I lost him. He didn’t speak to Ben or Matty for a year. Didn’t speak to me or his father for three.”


  * Sid tilts her head sadly at Leia. Before turning back and watching the troublesome three in the kitchen. Ben flicking dish soap bubbles at Kylo. Matty trying dangerously to intervene.


  * “They seem so close knit now. Even for Triplets.” She eludes. Looking back at Leia. 


  * “Ben and Matt forgave him and let him back in very quickly.” She tells. “Kylo went through hell. And they know that he did. But. Like it or not. They need him. Though they’d take a bullet before they’d ever admit to it. Those boys always have had each other. And it hurt me so much to see Kylo pushing me, and them and their olive branches of help away.” She tells.


  * “They were lost without him. So scared when he went away in the army. Everyone who knew him knew he had to go. Kylo’s the soldier. He has been the soldier for them all since he was three. He’s never run from a fight a day in his life. I can’t count the scrapes, the bruises, the black eyes. The shredded knuckles. And if you’d ask him. All of those cuts and bloodied fists would never be for him. It’d be in servitude of someone else.” She explains. “Someone being picked on. Someone being downtrodden...” she adds. 


  * Sid’s heart was melting like butter on hot toast. 


  * “I never knew he’d had such a rough time...” Sid tells Leia. Her face was a picture of sympathy and pain for her big man. 


  * “Oh. He’d never tell you about his dark days.” Leia insists.


  * “Because. He’s stubborn. Now, That. He definitely gets from me...” Leia grins. Sipping her wine.


  * “You know. I can tell.” She laughs. Before Leia nods. And then shows her another picture of Kylo in too big cowboy boots and a massive Stetson hat. Framing the shaggy mess of his black hair. They laugh over it for a moment before Leia decides to speak out. 


  * “I hope you know. My dear. He really, and I mean, r e a l l y loves you. He’s a tough nut to crack. But. To the right person. He is a goner. And I’ve never met a person more right for him, than you. You do him some real good. You two compliment each other.” 


  * “That’s such a lovely thing to hear.” Sid smiles. Before she wholeheartedly responds;


  * “Kylo’s been my saviour. He’s saved me in so many ways he can’t comprehend the least of them. I can’t even imagine what waking up and not loving him each day would be like.” She tells seriously.


  * Leia’s eyes look moist. She blames the sea air. Of course. 


  * “Well. That damn sure ain’t the wine talking.” She leans in and smiles. Both ladies reek off into peels of laughter after that.


  * Kylo sticks his head out the French doors when he hears giggling and sees them laughing like mad. Clinking wine glasses like they’d been buddies for years. He rolls his eyes. And trudges back inside. 


  * But he was smiling. 


  * And so. Sid had wanted to do something for Kylo. She had broached the subject of it one night. In bed. Pillow talk. She’d brought up a little of what his mom had told her. And how she liked how close he was to his brothers. And she wanted to know them better. Perhaps they could make their pre-existing movie night into dinner? Every week? 


  * Kylo couldn’t understand why anyone would willingly want to spend time with all three of the Solo boys.


  * But he couldn’t think of a reason why not...


  * Sid laughs. “So, whose going to relieve me of two gigantic homemade lasagnes if we cancel dinner with your brothers now?” She asks. 


  * Ben raises a hand from opposite the island. “I’d give it a try.” He volunteers.


  * “Only after you were severely stoned.” Kylo smiles across to the middle child.


  * “Go take it out on your punching bag. Rambo.” Ben growls back. Before his phone ringtone blares to life.


  * Sid and Kylo both look across the kitchen listening to his, obnoxiously Typically Ben style ringtone. Brows raised. 


  * Honestly? They’re not even surprised. 


  * Eminem and Nate Dogg’s ‘Shake That Ass’ is now blurting out loudly. Up to Kylo’s echoing ceiling.


  * “Two to the one from the one to the three, I like good pussy and I like good trees, Smoke so much weed you wouldn't believe, and I get more ass than a toilet seat...”


  * Ben rummages for the phone he put back in his pocket. Taking a second to dig it out. When he finally presses the call and raises it to his ear. He grins.Purring down the phone to the caller. 


  * “Cindy. Baby...” He flirts down the phone. Putting a cigarette between his lips and heading for the terrace with a wink aimed at the both of them. 


  * They watch him shut the door in his wake as he stands in the night air and puffs his cig.


  * “Hmm.” Kylo grumbles. Ruffling his hair. And reaching for his wine glass. He was fresh out the shower. She could tell. He smelled beautifully like peppery shower gel and clean rich soap. 


  * He always took Friday night dress code seriously. Tonight. He cut a fine figure in his brioni black suit trousers. And that blood red Valentino shirt she adored on him so much. Both his necklaces, dog tag and cross, strung around his neck. 


  * She puts herself in his arms. Curling her fingers into his dark hair. Silky soft from his shower. He kisses the top of her head and breathes in deep. Coming home to her here, or going home to hers was a tonic to him. After a long a difficult day.


  * “On a side note. May I say how spectacularly lovely you look tonight. Doll.” He informs her. Swaying his body into her short frame.


  * She was dressed in a emerald green silk dress. With flowing split sleeves and a swishing A-line skirt. He loves watching the elegant lines of her body press up under the glide of that supple silk. Like a medieval temptress in a Waterhouse painting. 


  * He loves knowing how good it’ll feel under his bare hands when he slides it off her later. 


  * She smiles. Pressing a kiss to his sternum that was bared in his shirt. His colognes scent wafting up her nose as she drank in the deliciousness of him.


  * “You look lovely too.” She counters back.


  * “That so?” He grins and leans down for another kiss.


  * “Handsomest Solo in the room.” She grins. 


  * “I’ll take those odds.” He beams back.  


  * This is the kind of nauseating display that would drive Ben to tears. 


  * Only. Their romance halts when Matty comes very abruptly into Kylo’s place.


  * Because he storms in. 


  * Matty never storms. 


  * Kylo’s fairly certain Matty doesn’t even know what the word ‘storm’ even means. Matty was an ambler. A trudger. A lolloper. His gait was slow and lazy.


  * He throws down his satchel and wordlessly plonks himself down at the kitchen island. Pushing up his glasses that slid down his nose with a furious shove of his finger.


  * “What’s up Matt?” Sid asks. Walking closer with a pinched frown as Kylo reaches for the fridge to get his baby brother a beer. Kylo snaps off the top with an opener and hands it across to him. 


  * Even when he places it in front of him. He still doesn’t say a word. Just fiddles with his hands and avoids eye contact. 


  * Sid looks searchingly to Kylo. Who looks back at her. Before he sighs and sits next to his little brother. Kylo shoehorns the beer into Matty’s hand and refuses to give up. 


  * “Talk. Drink. Or just drink. Or. Just talk. I will get it out of you one way or another.” Kylo warns.


  * Matty sighs. Before he finally raises his head as meets the concerned look of his brother. And his brothers girlfriend. 


  * “Do I need to leave the room?” Sid asks. “Is it a guy thing?” She checks. Taking off her apron and hanging it back up. Matt shakes his head. His glasses wobble on his nose. 


  * “Ok. Matt. Bud. We’re really looking for an auditory response.” Kylo brings up. They watch Matt take a swig of his beer, throwing his head back and necking a large quarter of the bottle down. His Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. 


  * “Katy broke up with me today...” He gruff’s quietly.


  * Katy & Matty had been going out for a year almost. She ~~was~~ had been a ~~sweet~~ brunette who lived near Matty’s building. She was studying drama. And lived in halls just down the way. She had long silky hair, and hazel eyes. It had taken Matt a month to get up the courage to ask her for coffee.


  * Kylo sighs and slides an arm to Matty’s shoulder.


  * “Break ups are tough. Matty. I’m sorry.” His brother soothes. 


  * “She broke up with me for Colin. The guy in my dorm. My housemate.” He adds.


  * Sid’s heart starts to hurt. She distracts herself turning and getting her lasagne’s out the oven. The heat and the smell of rich mouthwatering food hitting her in the face.


  * Cheating never got easier to handle. Especially not when she saw it happening around her to people she loved. 


  * She turns back and see’s Matty take off his glasses and rub his reddened, watering eyes. His cheeks blotchy. Kylo’s hand on the shoulder had turned to a comforting hand on the back. 


  * “She didn’t know what she had in you. Matty.” Kylo is telling him.


  * Sid stops and looks at the pair before she steps around and begins to plate up the food.


  * “You hungry, Matt?” She asks sweetly. Walking the huge bowl of salad and garlic bread over to the set table. 


  * “Come on bud. Sid made lasagne. You love lasagne.” Kylo says clapping his youngest bro’s shoulder. Scooping up Matt’s beer and his wine and taking them to the table. 


  * Matt turns and hops off the chair. Then he shuffles on over. And morosely folds himself into a seat.  


  * Sid lays her hand over his as he sits at the table. She sits with him as Kylo starts to serve the food up for them carving the lasagne into thick chunks.


  * “I know you feel really upset and rubbish right now Matt. Believe me. It’s an awful feeling. The worst. Being cast aside like that. But if anything. That shows how idiotic she is. And how hurtful. To give you up in such a cold-hearted way.” She offers. Matt nods again.


  * Clearly he wasn’t in his one of his talkative moods tonight...


  * Usually he was as happy as a golden retriever when he came to dinner. He was chatty and perky. And he’d spring in that door full of energy and warmth. He’d debate to death with Sid about the movie they put on if it was one of their favourites.


  * Kylo had to forcibly separate them during the Fifth Element last week. It had gotten very heated. 


  * The end result had necessitated throwing Sid over his shoulder and walking her into the kitchen for more wine, to calm her down.


  * She laughed until tears came. Demanding for Kylo to put her down. Which he did not. He simply slapped her ass, making her squeak, and carried on. 


  * Their Matty was a bright, sparky thing. Full of beans and usually the happiest soul in the room. It hurt a place deep in her chest to see him saddened and cruelly hurt because of another persons thoughtless and callous actions.


  * Kylo shoves a plate of food under his nose. And shares a worried glance with Sid as she hands her a plate. And squeezes her hand in comfort. He could see from her pinched expression that she felt hurt for Matt. And he knew why. Cheating was her sore point. And no wonder.


  * Now to see someone she loves dearly inflicted with the same nasty agony? 


  * And for that person to be the sweetest soul alive whom she had the pleasure to know?  


  * Not. Ok.


  * It’s at this point Ben finishes his phone call and his cigarette. And slips back inside. Shutting the French terrace door behind him. He slides his phone back down in his pocket. And joins his family at the table. Heaping a mountain of food into his plate. 


  * “What’s with the long faces?” Ben asks to the morose table before him. 


  * “Nothing.” Matty is quick to tell him. Twirling his fork in his food. He wasn’t about to admit his heartbreak to Ben. For fear he’d be mercilessly teased. 


  * “You wanna hear one of my dirty jokes? I got three new ones..” Ben smirks as he chews his first mouthful.


  * A very abrupt “NO!” firmly leaves all ~~three~~ two of their smiling mouths. Ben frowns at them all. 


  * Sid takes another glance at Matty after she serves Kylo and Ben some salad. Ben is rabbeting on to Kylo about the new intern in his office. Sid’s attention is fixed on the littlest triplet. Head down. Staring at his food. Trying to hide his reddened, tear-filled eyes. 


  * She was going to do something about this. Come hell or high water.



 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  * So. Sid takes action.


  * Draws a battle plan. Slaps on her ‘war paint’ ready’s her battle cry...


  * “Where is Matty’s dorm again?” She asks Kylo at a, less than opportune, moment.


  * Which happened to be when he had hauled her into his arms. Wrapped her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. She was tugging on his hair and he was covering her neck in kisses. Walking her up the spiral staircase to bed to keep her busy and sleepless for the next few hours.


  * He pauses in his kisses. And swerves his head back to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed. Eyes dark with lust. They were panting with need onto each other’s lips.


  * “If you’re trying to get me horny. Your dirty talk really needs some work, Doll.” He tells her unzipping her dress and letting it slid down her arms. His big hand covering her bare back. Nonetheless...


  * She is thrown down onto the big bed. Under him as he sneaks his hands up her skirt and buried his mouth in her tits. Sucking and lapping at her roused nipples. “Luckily...” He begins.


  * “I am a man who can summon enough dirty talk for the both of us.” He explains. Before he unleashes a whispering litany of filth into her ear that made her blush through to next Sunday. 


  * It’s about six days later, and Matt is busy studying his lecture notes in his bedroom.


  * His room is neat as a pin. As usual. The drab 8 x 12 room stuffed full of his possessions. Crammed full of books. The walls covered in Sci-Fi and Anime posters. He has plaid navy bedding on his neatly made single bed. A space constellation rug by his desk. Which his armchair sat on.


  * And he is currently folded over the thing, typing away like crazy into his laptop. Highlighting his notes and trying to cram for every last inch of knowledge into his head for next weeks exam. His stereo is blaring Twenty One Pilots into his bedroom. A mug of herbal jasmine tea brewing away beside him.


  * He vaguely hears a commotion outside his dorm door. He merely ignored it, and carries on. It never used to be. But now. It was a curse that Colin’s dorm was right opposite his own.


  * He thought having grown up with Ben and his headboard clattering through his teen years in the house was bad.


  * Knowing the girl on the other side of the wall was a whole other league of pain and annoyance.


  * Especially when it came to the carnal noises that surfaced from the dorm opposite nowadays...


  * It was Colin and Katy making loud, vigorous use of his bed. And the walls here too. Thin as paper. He could hear every rustle of the bedsheets. Every unabashed moan.


  * Ben must’ve given him some form of PTSD from their teen years. Whenever he hears a box mattress groan.


  * He is catapulted back into feeling like that acne ridden, unpopular nerd, who was never invited to parties. Instead choosing to say at home and finish his studies. Wedged unfairly in between two, charming, girl-bait, brothers who always seemed to be in the spotlight to girls gazes and admirations. Matty never earned a second look next to them. 


  * It doesn’t help they put on ridiculously loud ‘mood’ music. So now. Not only does he know his ex best friend and ex girlfriend are having a spot of afternoon glory. But now? He has to listen to Usher soundtracking the godawful moment.


  * He screws his jaw tight. And concentrates hard on the algorithms on the screen before him. So hard he feels like he’ll burst a brain cell.


  * He feels such hatred and sadness bubbling up. And pressing down on his chest, a cold, hard, spikes of rage and pain stabbing like relentless red hot pins into his ribs.


  * He understands the appeal of being a brooding Solo now. (He can kind of get what Kylo sees in it) because he’d been stomping around, moping, and being snippy with everyone for days.


  * He whacks his music up to almost full blast. The tempo and lyrics rattling his bones and shaking his blood. Anything. So as not to hear the crescendo of the event taking place just across the hall.


  * His teeth should be dust. That’s how tightly grit his jaw was now.


  * He feels hot tears spear at the back of his eyes. Turning his work before him to squiggling white and black mush. He drops his head and lets his emotions get the better of him. He takes off his glasses and rubs his knuckles into his eyes. Stars bursting behind his eyelids.


  * Small mercy’s. At last the music next door stops. As does the groans. Now it’s descended into nothing but slow, heavy, breathing infused with whines. Usher has been turned down to an acceptable volume. And he can hear footsteps thudding about on the floor. Probably righting clothes. And pulling their appearances together.


  * He hears Colin’s door open. And he can hear Katy giggling at something he said to her. He listens to them clatter down the hall, downstairs. To their shared kitchen and living room.


  * He tries, in upset and hurt vain, to refocus on his work. He doesn’t hear a pair of heels walk down the hall to his room. Picking across the heavy carpet.


  * He only knows about the visitor. When a soft rap comes on his bedroom door. He really doesn’t want company at this particular point.


  * He thinks about ignoring it. Truly he does.


  * If it was any of his housemates coming to chat. He wasn’t in the chatting mood. And if it was Aidan coming to try and cheer him up with terrible jokes, stand in his doorway noisily eating fruit loops and trying to coerce him to come to tonight’s Frat party. Well. Then. He really didn’t want to know.


  * “Please go away. Aidan. I don’t care if the Delta Kappa Epsilon is throwing another kegger tonight. I’m not coming just to stand in the corner for four hours to watch you make out with numerous blondes. And that’s final.” He calls moodily through the door.


  * Returning to his work. Cranking high ‘Nothing But Thieves.’ As he was in that kind of dark mood.


  * His door opens anyway. Sliding open a crack as someone pokes their head through... Not the someone he was expecting, either...


  * He blinks in alarm through the thick lenses of his glasses as he sees Sid lever her head and shoulders through the door. Grinning brightly at him. A wave of her perfume sneaking in behind her, clouding into the small space of his dorm room.


  * “No to the wild, wet t-shirt kegger tonight? Brad and Chad sent me up to ask you to bring extra ping pong balls for the beer pong sudden death round...” She japes. Standing in his doorway. Not wanting to intrude.


  * “Or in other words. Hello.” She beams a white smile through her red lipstick. One hip kicked far out to one side as she stood.


  * “You look like a shocked rabbit caught in headlights. I’m sorry. A very stoned guy in a Slipknot t-shirt with a beanie and very poor personal hygiene, who didn’t take his eyes off playing Skyrim said it was ok for me to just come on up here...” She explains guiltily.


  * Well. ‘Said’ was a bit of a stretch. The guy merely grunted and pointed. “Up the stairs and along the hall to your right, Red” without taking his eyes off the TV screen. 


  * “Yeah. No excuse can be made for him. That’s Fred. He’s a jerk when stoned. And usually he is, always, stoned.” Matt explains grimly. 


  * He seemed to remember his manners then and shot up out his seat. Cheeks red. Fidgeting with his wrinkled t-shirt.


  * If he was expecting company. He would’ve dressed better.


  * As it was he was in a striped white and black long sleeve shirt, layered under a weathered and truly old navy hued Pink Floyd tee. His jeans he’s pretty sure had more than a few wrinkles on them. And, embarrassingly, the looney tunes socks on his feet, have holes in.


  * If he’d have known she was coming here he would have spritzed on some cologne. Brushed his unruly hair that probably resembled a birds nest by now.


  * And he’d have Hidden the teddy sat dutifully by his pillow. And the Death Note action figures on his shelf....


  * Her bag and coat were slung over one arm. A small rectangular parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with string sat in her hands. The paper was starting to go greasy with whatever it was wrapped around.


  * He couldn’t help thinking that she looked really nice today.


  * (Well, actually? She always looked nice) 


  * But today especially. She was wearing a sleeveless blood red midi vintage dress. A ‘V’cut out up the dress by her knees. The sleeves cut to the same stark shape as the one by her legs. She looked edgy and professionally pretty. Tied tight around her somewhat lithe waist is a red tie belt to match the vivid dress. 


  * Daggering sharp heels of the same shade were on her feet. Straps crossing her ankles. Her short auburn hair was wavy and shiny.


  * He suddenly feels nervous that she’s here. And he looks so terrible in her company.


  * “Mind if I come in?” She asks politely. Smiling gently.


  * Matt stumbles over his answer.


  * “Y-yes. Of course! God. I’m sorry! Please. Come in. Sit...” He insists. Gesturing to the bed with a blush decorating his cheeks. Rubbing his neck nervously.


  * She smiles warmly. Her blusher tinted cheeks lifting. Causing wrinkles and dimples to gather by her eyes. Framed beautifully by long lashes and dark mascara.


  * She makes herself comfy on his soft bed. It dips under her weight as she perched herself on the edge of it. She places her hefty leather handbag down. And passes him across the parcel of brown paper.


  * “Here. I was raised never to come anywhere unannounced, empty handed.” She smiles “My grandmother may be a spiky old dragon. But she did ingrain some politesse in me.” She adds.


  * Matt takes the thing from her hands. And it’s wonderfully warm. A gentle waft of rich chocolate, the sticky scent of banana, and hazelnut drifts across to his nostrils. Whetting his appetite. She’d made his favourite banana bread. 


  * “Thank-you.” He tells sincerely. A small smile tugging at his lips. But it still didn’t reach his eyes.


  * “How you doing? She winces lightly.


  * Matt fiddles with the string on the warm cake in his hands.


  * “I’m. Um. I’m not too good. Right now. Really...” He lets out. Miserably looking down into his lap.


  * Sid had seen a somewhat amorous couple in the kitchen. She was Waify and slender. Barely any body shape to her willowy frame. Dressed in a guy’s too big dress shirt and pyjama bottoms. He was a stocky, fairly broad shouldered, but short guy, in lounge wear consisting of a football t-shirt, and boxers. 


  * They were full on making out pressed against the counter with mussed hair and the ‘glow’ of the recently-gotten-laid variety. 


  * The girl had long mousy brown hair. He had said Katy was a brunette. She must’ve been the source of Matt Solo’s recent heartbreak. 


  * “I know you must be in so many kinds of pain right now Matt. But. As a recent veteran of a throughly nasty break up and divorce. May I flatter myself enormously here as wise, and give you some painfully- hard-earned advice? She seeks.


  * Matt raises his eyes, and looks up at her and bobbles a slight nod.


  * “They did the hateful thing to hurt you. Just remember that. They chose an action that would hurt you. And even though I know it seems like the toughest thing in the world to do. Don’t give them the opportunity to know they can affect you. Head held high. And all that nonsense.” She tells.


  * “And I don’t care what everyone says. cheating isn’t a cry for help. Or attention. Cheating is a sign of a shallow personality.” She hastens to make plain.


  * Matt nods. Taking in her words.


  * “I knew she was out of my league. I thought she liked me...but. I don’t know. Towards the end. She was really...distant. It felt like I barely saw her anymore. That’s when I kinda knew...” He tells her.


  * Her eyes flash with something dark and hard. And angry. 


  * “You weren’t out of her league. Matt. Rather she was, way out, of yours. You’re a good person. Matt Solo.” Sid insists firmly. Pointing a furious finger across at him.


  * She would not have this sweet boy doubt himself over a whorish girl who wasn’t worth it.


  * “My second piece of advice?” Sid speaks up.


  * “Revenge is a dish best served ice cold.” She leers evilly.


  * Matt frowns. Suddenly he felt scared...


  * “Now. My purpose in coming here was twofold. One. Because you are a great guy Matty. And I can’t allow someone to make you feel worthless. Second. I came because I’ve hatched a very evil, but brilliant, plan. And I want to know if you’d help me execute it? She asks.


  * “What sort of plan?” He asks innocently with a crinkled brow signposting his confusion.


  * She grinned a wicked grin. Reached into her large handbag and withdrew a bag from Agent Provocateur.


  * Matty gulps. His eyes as wide as saucers.


  * “Ice cold.” Sid repeats with a wink.


  * Matts pretty sure he’s too scared to move.


  * “But-t. We?! I can’t. Kylo... would... be. He’ll dispose of my corpse in the east river by tonight if he finds out I so much as touched you..we. Can’t!You’re...” He stammers.


  * His face is now redder than her dress.


  * He shrinks back in his desk chair. Clutching the cake in his arms like it was a life buoy that could protect him.


  * Sid laughs a smile at him. 


  * “Matt. As cute as I find you. I love your stupid big brother. And I’m not about to become an adulterer. We’re just going to very falsely lead your awful housemates, and that nasty ex of yours, to the conclusion that I came here with the sole purpose of having hot sex with you.” She speaks in a small voice. So they weren’t overheard.


  * He watches her withdraw some bright red, very skimpy, sexy underwear from the folds of jasmine scented tissue paper in the shopping bag.


  * She snaps the labels off the brand new underwear. And she stands to cross to open his door inwards, he watched her smirk as she hooked the skimpy lace bra over his door handle. Shutting it thereafter.


  * Very sexy underwear draped on the door? That was the most dirty definition of ‘do not disturb’


  * She presses the door shut and puts her back to it.


  * “Mood music?...” She asks him.


  * He is agog for a second. Before he fumbles for his Spotify linked to his speaker from his laptop via the AUX cord. He types with shaking fingers for ‘love making songs’


  * Oh. He is so cute. 


  * ‘Love to Love you Baby’ by Donna Summer coo’s to life through his speaker. Listening to the porny, 80’s style intro. And Donna’s suggestive singing moans...When Matty swivels back round on his desk chair, he see’s Sid sat pulling off her oppressive heels. Before throwing them down on the floor near her bag, now in bare feet.


  * She beckons him over with a tilt of her head and a crooked finger. He watched her hop up onto his bed.


  * “Now we need some convincing headboard rocking. Get up here.” She suggests, waving him up.


  * He swallows. Before he follows suit. A small smile turning up the corner of his lips.


  * They leap on the bed and jump around like fools.


  * By the end of it. Matt was grinning with glee. Helping Sid bash on the wall. Shouting loudly enough to make it through the thin walls as he helped make some almost convincing sex noises himself.


  * “Yes! More, Matty! God. More. Baby! MORE!” She gasps. “Yes. GOD yes’ just there. Just. Oh...Yeaa.” She whines. Half screaming. Half moaning.


  * If they rocked anymore fiercely Matt seriously suspects they’ll break the bed 


  * “Oh. Just like that. Harder...” She carries on. Nodding at Matt. Who let out some loud grunts and moans of his own.


  * “Matty. I’ve never had a guy this big!” She whines. Winking at him.


  * He was sure the tips of his ears were red by now.


  * Donna was now fading into something low and slow by Maxwell. And she clocked their time on his Micky Mouse bedside clock. They’d been at it for ten minutes now. That should do nicely... Especially for the poor bastards downstairs hearing this.


  * “Ok.” She pants. “That’ll do it.” She gasps through a smile. Appropriately they were both now a little sweaty and exerted from their mad loud dance on his mattress.


  * He gets down first and offers her his hand so she can climb safely down.


  * Now she had to work on his appearance...


  * “Right.” She speaks up. Putting her hands on her hips. Letting her eyes slide up and down his scruffy form.


  * “Ok. Take the long sleeved shirt off. Put the Pink Floyd one back on. But Inside out. With the label under your chin.” She suggests.


  * He fidgets on the spot. And blushes. 


  * “Oh.” Sid smiles and puts her hands up apologetically. “I’m sorry.” She turns her back and gives him some privacy. Meanwhile, getting to work on her own outfit.


  * She pulls one bra strap down to loop over her upper arm. She ruffles and hitched her dress up ever so slightly. She musses her hair with both hands. And unzips her dress at the back just a little.


  * She hears Matty shuffle his clothes behind her. And when his long sleeved shirt hits the bed. She turns and examines her handiwork.


  * “Perfect!” She smiles. As he holds open his arms out in presentation.


  * “Hate to ask this. But. I want us both to go big or go home with this façade. Maybe unzip your flies a little..” She suggests. Pinching her fingers almost together to indicate a tiny amount.


  * Matty nods and cautiously does as told. 


  * Sid steps close and slowly slides off his black glasses. She places them gently on the bed and reaches up on tiptoes (dammit they were all so tall) and sinks her hands into those blonde locks and tosses them about to create a wild look. He blinks down at the now blurry sight of Sid.


  * He looks so different without his glasses. And she notes for the first time the handsome shape of his jaw that was clearly a sibling trait. She can also see the light blonde stubble covering his chin and cheeks. 


  * She ruffles and mussed his fluffy hair (she notes; much fluffier than Kylo’s) until she is satisfied with it. Some sticking up. Some lay flat.


  * Now, It looked like she’d run her fingers through it in the throes of passion... Exactly the look she was aiming for on him.


  * “Ok.” She speaks with a grim tone. “I’d hoped to avoid this. But I see no convincing way around it...” She tells him. He frowns. 


  * “Please know I take no joy from this. Nor do I wish to repeat it. I love your brother madly. And this is no way a deferment of said love.” She adds. He cannot understand her cryptic explanation... 


  * Until she places her hands on his cheeks and presses her lips to his in an artless kiss.


  * Matt was screaming internally.


  * He doesn’t want to be condemned to a watery grave in the Hudson after Kylo finds out they’d kissed... his brother knew shady people. Matt could disappear if the mighty Kylo so chose...


  * She places smacking kisses across his jaw and cheeks too. His stubble and flushing skin tickling her lips. When she pulls back she takes his chin in her hand and turns his head this way and that. Seeing her red lipstick marks pressed all over his face.


  * Matty looks down at her with a mixture of shock and horror when she pulls back. 


  * “He’ll kill me.” He whines like a sad puppy.


  * “It’s for our worthy evil cause. He’ll understand. And I’m not kissing you cause I’m in love with you Matt. You’re my friend. And as a friend. I don’t like seeing you hurt. I’m helping you out to have the last laugh over your bitchy ex and that idiot she chose who are picking on you...” She pledges.


  * He nods.


  * ~~Maybe if he runs away to Mexico Kylo can’t find him and have him skinned alive~~.


  * “Alright now. Final touches. Then you can show me to the door.” Sid beams. Reaching into her handbag. She fishes out a small vial of her perfume bottle. And sprays it to mist over Matt. Getting her scent all over his mussed self.


  * Anyone coming within an inch of him would know what he’d ~~not actually~~ been up too. 


  * And a good thing too. After someone let her into the house. Two or three jocks gaggled on the stairs as she gained directions, after overhearing from beanie Fred that she was here to see Matt, chose the moment to smirk and laugh at her. Calling across in a foul way “You here to see the pencil neck virgin?” They called loudly. Laughing like a pack of Hyenas. High fiving each other at their “sickkkk joke dude.” 


  * She rolls her eyes so hard. She’s amazed they don’t flip back in her skull. 


  * A snippy retort fired out her mouth before she could stop it. “Clever burn. But personally? Myself? I think a studious, hard working pencil neck is far more interesting and sexy as a person, than a STD ridden, football playing, varsity t-shirt wearing, fraternity joining, roid-head, spoilt, waste of a trust fund. Who hasn’t got two brain cells to rub together. Dude.” She insults. Sid glared at them and navigated her way around the pair of knob-heads.


  * Then, she turned on her heel and walked off. Well aware they were checking her ass out as the went up the stairs..


  * “Right. I think you’re ready to stick it to the bastards now. Young Solo.” 


  * She grins. Bringing her bag and coat into her hands. Before she exclaims loudly. Rummaging through her bag one last time. Bringing out the pair of ultra red knickers that matched the bra hanging off his doorknob.


  * She leans across and tucks them into his jeans pocket. Leaving the corner of them, very, visible.


  * “They’re brand new and clean. I promise.” She nods. 


  * “Let’s show that Katy and Colin what an idiot she’s been. And how inadequate they are in bed, huh?” She smiles. Slipping her shoes back on.


  * Matt can actually feel a knot of excitement building in his stomach.


  * Sid is ready. Matt is all primed and raring to go. Sid pauses with her hand on the door handle.


  * “Deep breath.” She tells him. “And. Don’t hesitate.” She instructs. 


  * “And If I kiss you on the mouth again. Grab my ass. Ok? Grab it.” She insists firmly.


  * They head out into the hallway. Matt tried to give the bra back to her. But she shakes her head. Putting her hand over his and holding it as if they were a hot young couple stuck solidly in the honeymoon phase.


  * They get to the top of the stairs. The same jocks before still stood there looking stupid. Oh. This would be good. 


  * The icing on the cake though. Was that a brunette girl and who she assumes is Colin, happen to be just starting to come up the stairs with mugs of coffee in hand. And they get. A full. Damn. Eyeful. of the both of them.


  * Sid smiles sweetly at the Jocks. And Matt blushes and lets Sid lead him, as they brush past still holding hands, going for the front door. Conversation halts. Jaws drop open.


  * All eyes were on Matt and the bombshell older woman who he was clearly, seeing. 


  * Who he clearly had been, seeing too, loudly in his bedroom. The whole damn house had heard them. 


  * When she gets to the bottom. She makes a sound of cooing recognition in her throat, and steps up to Matty’s ex. And her new boyfriend.


  * “You must be Katy...” Sid leers, adjusting her bag on her arm. 


  * “Matt told me all about you.” She bitches in a very unfriendly tone. Her eyes turned cold. Her smile was poisonous.


  * “Yeah... hope you don’t mind me saying. Not only are you crazy. But I also happen to think you’re a huge fucking idiot.” Sid snaps. 


  * The jocks on the stairs gasp, holler, and “ohhhhhh!” Very loudly at her comment.


  * “Not only did you throw away like yesterday’s trash the sweetest guy on planet Earth. But honey...” She clicks her tongue patronisingly.


  * “But you gave up a guy who is the best hottest fucking sex I’ve ever had in my  e n t i r e  life.” 


  * “Also. Just between you and me, sweetie...” She digs like she’s her best friend in all the world. Sid leans over and whispers near Katy’s ear. 


  * “That boy is fucking hung like the winner of the damn Kentucky Derby.” She leers.


  * When she pulls back she grins. And derisively side eyes the front of Colin’s shorts. Then she raised a brow. Chuckles like a villain. 


  * “Chin up. After all. Some girls just can’t handle a real guy like him in bed. Oh. I’ll be walking funny for days...”  She tuts. Winking. 


  * She doesn’t give the girl even a second to respond. 


  * She turns on her heel. Snatching up Matts hand as she takes him across to the front door.


  * They stand close together on the doormat. She drags him closer by a fistful of his inside out t-shirt.


  * “I had so much fun. Big boy.” Sid flirts like a floozy with a big, red smile. Chuckling after. Digging further at Katy. 


  * “Always welcome.” Matt blushes his hands awkwardly lingering on her waist.


  * “When can I see you again, baby?” She asks him, dragging her red nails back through his hair. 


  * “Remember. Treat me mean. To keep me keen.” She’d said to him in his room. “They have to think I’m chasing after you for amazing sex like I can’t get enough. You’ll be a very popular guy with the jock cliques. Trust me. I know it’s primordial. But they seem to all think it’s fashionable to leave a girl panting after you.” As she rolled her eyes at the ins and outs of toxic masculinity. 


  * “I’m pretty busy, this week. Actually.” He tells her. “Got a mid term. And a couple of parties to hit.” 


  * The boy damn sure is a quick learner. He wasn’t at this college for nothing. 


  * “Call me when you’re free.” She laments. Slapping a playful hand to his chest. “Lets go to my place. Next time... keep me in bed for two days like last week...” She giggles saucily.


  * “I will. I’ll call you soon. I promise.” He relents.


  * He does as she instructs when she reaches up and hungrily kisses him on the lips. Her hands in his hair. He hesitates only slightly. But he does grab her ass after a second. Very gently cupping her through the dress.


  * When she pulls back for air. She cups his cheek with her hand. Groaning as she breaks away from him with a purring moan. 


  * “My god. You’re so cute.” She growls. 


  * “That wasn’t what you were moaning ten minutes ago...” Matt points out. She laughs giddily. Wiping away with her thumb a smudge of her lipstick off his cheek. 


  * “See you round Sugar. You get lonely. You call me. I beg of you.” She asks. Stepping out onto the porch. 


  * “Oh. Um.” Matt begins. Calling her back as he rummaged in his pocket.


  * She steps back and returns them to their rightful place. In his pocket. 


  * She suggestively rubs his thigh through his jeans after. Flicking a fingertip over her knickers stuffed in his pocket.


  * “Keep those. A little reminder...” She flirts. 


  * “Thank-you.” Matt mouthed to her sincerely with a big grin. The little spark finally glimmering back to life in his eyes.


  * She winks at him in return. 


  * She turns and heads down the stairs and off into the street. Matt watched her off for a second.


  * Before turning around and seeing everyone was still staring at him. 


  * Mouths hung wide like guppy fish at feeding time. 


  * “What?” He asks to the group around him. 


  * “Do I have something on my face?” He asks them all. Wiping his mouth with his hand then looking down at it. Full well knowing his cheeks and jaw were covered still in her lipstick. 


  * The jocks tried to shake his hand as he went up stairs. Clapping him on the shoulder like he was a fraternity brother of theirs. And not the nerd they’d teased so mercilessly beforehand. 


  * Sid was in her cab and on route to Kylo’s when she got Matt’s text;


  * “Katy just knocked on my door and asked me if we could talk. I told her there was no way in hell we could. Thankyou for helping me out in your, very unorthodox way, Sid. I actually feel a lot better after shutting my bedroom door in her face. Thankyou :)”


  * Sid grins as she writes her reply;


  * “Welcome anytime. Kid. x” 



 

 

 

 

~

 

 

  * As it’s her day off. She hightailed it back to Kylo’s place and sets herself up for a lazy day.


  * She takes Newt and Orb out for a nice long walk through the sunny park. She comes home, picks up two humungous steaks and a bottle of great wine for her and Kylo for dinner. And then she peels off her sweaty clothes and hops in his massive walk in steam shower. 


  * She sets up her aromatherapy lavender and neroli candles. She dims the lights. And blasts some ever seductive Sade into the bathroom.


  * She is precisely two seconds into lathering up her hair with her jasmine rose shampoo when the shower door is yanked open. She gasps and whirls around. Out of sheer instinct. Covering her breasts with the shampoo and conditioner bottle as she turns around. Blinking suds into her eye.


  * There stands before her a very angry, wet, naked Kylo.


  * Well. To be fair to her now incapacitated eyesight. She thinks it was Kylo. It could’ve been Ben for all she could see of him. A very tall man with dark hair. All bets were off. 


  * “Christ. Kylo!” She scorns with a smile. Rubbing and washing the dratted soap out her eye. 


  * “You scared me half to death.” She tells him. Once she faces him again she sees he is stood with an inscrutable look on that brooding expression of his.


  * When he remains silent. Her face falls. 


  * “I just got a text. Guess who from...” He asks with a stony face. 


  * She wants to shrink down to about 3cm tall. In fact. She wants to disappear down the drain.


  * “I’m guessing by that stony look you’re sporting....Matt?” She braves. Though she didn’t feel brave right now...


  * He doesn’t dismiss or confirm it. He merely steps closer. Getting right up in her personal space. Water beating and spattering off his solid shoulders and soaking that raven hair to pat it down close to his head, as he steps into the streaming shower jets in front of her. 


  * He still doesn’t say a word even as he reaches over and thumbs away a smear of soap from dripping down her brow into her eye from her still sudsy hair.


  * “Are you mad?” Sid asks in an impossibly small whisper.


  * “Because his housemates call him the pencil neck virgin. And the meat headed jocks who tease him wouldn’t know their asses from their elbows. And that stupid ex girlfriend was having loud sex with her new boyfriend right across the hall from his bedroom. And I’m sorry. But that’s just pure evil. And his housemates are dicks. And cheating hurts. And if I could help that sweet brother of yours scrape back even a shred of dignity that she stomped all over. Then I bloody will! Alright? And I’d do it again.” She rambles. Fearing his response. 


  * His answer?


  * To reel her close and give her a kiss that made her toes curl.


  * She gasps into his lips as he snatched her up and brings her into his arms. Her knees either side of his hips. Hands sliding along to grip her ass. Her arms linked at the back of his neck as her hot, slippery body presses into his. The bottles once pressed to her breasts in her hands, clatter to the floor. 


  * When they pull apart. He nuzzles his forehead against hers. 


  * “I’m not angry.” He smiles.


  *  “I actually think what you did for Matty is real fucking sweet. Even though I’ll wring his neck if he dares kiss you again.” He growls. That crooked smile pulling at his lips.


  * “I’m glad you agree.” Sid smiles. Laughing as he pressed kisses up her shoulders. Onto her neck.


  * One last act of wickedness for the day... she smiles.


  * “Oh. Matty.” She moans cupping his wet hair. 


  * He bites. 


  * She shrieks, yelping laughter. As he pulled back and shakes his head at her. 


  * “You’ll spend the rest of the night, praying you hadn’t said that. Doll.” He promises.


  * Kylo Ren is nothing, if not a man of his word.



  

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always comments/general kylo thirst/kudos or indeed any exclaimations of any kind are most welcome! - punk x


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